


Reverse Polarity

by thefreakquick



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2018-07-25 14:50:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 54,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7537045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefreakquick/pseuds/thefreakquick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i don't know why i'm thinking about stopping this series, i mean i do love it but i realised while editing that i don't love it enough to continue writing it and that it has a lot of elements that i haven't written right. there's a ton of grammatical errors and character back stories gone wrong and if i actually sat down to correct them, i'd have to change the entire story which i'd love to if i still shipped yutae and had the enthusiasm to do it, but i don't. the yutae dynamic just keeps changing for me so writing them with the same characterisations i had in mind while i begun this doesn't seem possible for me anymore. plus our yutae ficdom is great and i didn't do a good job on the quality of this fic by usual expectation standards i guess so...yeah<br/><br/>thank you to everyone who commented, bookmarked, left a kudos, shared this story and read it because i am so grateful for all of the love i have received. you have been the best readers ever for supporting this mess of a fanfic till now.<br/><br/>thank you so very much <3</p></blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know why i'm thinking about stopping this series, i mean i do love it but i realised while editing that i don't love it enough to continue writing it and that it has a lot of elements that i haven't written right. there's a ton of grammatical errors and character back stories gone wrong and if i actually sat down to correct them, i'd have to change the entire story which i'd love to if i still shipped yutae and had the enthusiasm to do it, but i don't. the yutae dynamic just keeps changing for me so writing them with the same characterisations i had in mind while i begun this doesn't seem possible for me anymore. plus our yutae ficdom is great and i didn't do a good job on the quality of this fic by usual expectation standards i guess so...yeah  
>   
> thank you to everyone who commented, bookmarked, left a kudos, shared this story and read it because i am so grateful for all of the love i have received. you have been the best readers ever for supporting this mess of a fanfic till now.  
>   
> thank you so very much <3

“One word. _Explain. You asshat."_

Yuta understands Kun is not three seconds but less than that to becoming a colossal rage monster that will rip his insides out and kill him casually but it’s not like the situation he’s facing forthwith is his fault. Allegedly might be, but hey, Yuta knows he’s completely above reproach.

And with the way Kun is actually aiming a broken glass bulb at him, he wishes Kun knew too that he was as blameless as a newborn chicklet.

Yuta shifts form foot to foot, simultaneously knocking the heel of his foot on one of his huge textbook towers rooted in the old rug,“Y’know in totality that's like _three_ words? Maybe you might wanna rephrase…?”

Kun's nostrils flare, “You have a stranger. On your couch. Who's absolutely delicious—”

 _“Kun,”_ Yuta immediately stops because  _ew, man._

“He’s hot okay! My bad, but you _said_ you had a shovel! Why didn't you hit him with that shovel? Don't you know what shovels are for?!” Kun yells at him and Yuta’s actually not paying attention and peeking through the gap through his broken door to see if the _stranger_ (who Kun disturbingly wanted to bone) had vanished into the thin air he’d come from.

Contrary to his expectations, the stranger is still sitting and playing on his phone, if the cuboid in his hand could be categorized as a phone. Yuta is thwacked back to reality when Kun clears his throat.

“Shovels are for _digging,_ precisely," Yuta groans, rubbing his temple, "Look, I had a shovel! But he isn't stealing anything and said he just wants to talk.”

At this point Kun actually whacks him, with his arm since heavens had mercy on Yuta this time. Yuta, since he claims being a real man, whoever taught him his pathetic gender definitions, doesn’t wince. Totally doesn’t.

“I've never seen him around you should call the police— _geez are you an idiot?”_ Kun is borderline screaming this time, putting a rather frustrated hand on the wall.

“No I'm a genius why do you ask?”

“Because you _should've_ hit him! Or knocked him unconscious and called the police or something—why aren't you doing any of these things now?” Kun asks and before Yuta can allow him to decapitate him, he takes a deep breath and tells Kun the truth.

“He called me dad.”

Silence follows.

Kun’s fists clench, making his knuckles turn white, “Is that kinky or literal I swear to Thor I will—”

“His clothes are weird,” Yuta hurriedly adds, beginning to list down everything he could describe about the stranger in his living room to support his assumption, “like upgraded-lady gaga-clothes or something and that hairstyle—his hair is fucking blonde and pink for fuck’s sake! And...his phone is _nothing_ like the technology we have now and I know because well I may not be in the robotics department but I am a genius—”

“Wait...are you saying…” Kun lets his mouth fall in disbelief.

“I think he's my son,” Yuta puts forward, “from the future. And if that's true, that's some crazy shit.”

More silence follows. But this time Kun pretends to faint and collapses on Yuta’s creaking rocking chair.

“Oh my god I'm an idiot,” Kun breathes out, sounding heat stroked.

Yuta snickers jocundly, “You're finally admitting it—”

“It's nothing to be happy about!” Kun yells using his preinstalled loudspeaker. “There's _somebody_ in your apartment, from the future and going by your thesis he's _your son_ that means you’re _married_ which is _impossible_ and I really want to bang your son but I can't because he’s _your son?_   Like that's gross as fuck but why do you have to go use your stupid pretty face and have super hot children with—wait who's his other parent is it me? It can't be me-I wouldn't marry you if it saved Krypton from annihilation—”

 _“Dad?”_ A deep voice calls and a shiver runs down Yuta’s spine. He’s not getting used to this whole I’m-a-fucking-father-to-a-child ordeal anytime soon.

“Yeah?”

“Dad-er...the future you wants to speak to you...” the kid says and he’s got these sparkling puppy eyes that Yuta naturally feels a fondness towards. He gulps.

_He’s my son. Huh._

“Well a conversation with _me_ is going to be very uncomfortable...” Yuta remarks while crying inside due to the awkward atmosphere and tells the kid to go out for a second.

The kid turns to sass, “And I didn't know you were this horny Uncle Kun,” and then leaves hurriedly.

“I just got uncle-zoned” Kun deadpans, expression telling that he had a probable concussion coming. Yuta puts a hand on his shoulder.

“You just got uncle-zoned.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

“Kun, I don’t get it,” Yuta voices out his botheration to his best friend while they’re trying to get into a corner which facilitates being out of ear shot to the weird-ass-candy-hair-kid-from-the-future. Yuta makes a mental note to ask his name because that’s a far too much hyphenation for his brain to take up.

“Neither do I, genius," Kun answers unhelpfully, crossing his arms, "And I can’t believe your son looks this good, I mean look at that,” he gestures to the kid’s assumable direction and then points disgustedly at Yuta, “And look at you.”

“I could throw you out of my apartment,” Yuta blankly before rolling his eyes, “So what, do we interrogate him? Or just tell him to go home?”

“We could but he could also be y’know stuck in our time because why would anyone come to the 21st century of disappointment voluntarily? My guess is that he tripped on a wire and fell into those time machine thingys. You’ve been dreaming about making one, if he’s your son I won’t be surprised we'll have time machines in a few years time,” Kun suggests and Yuta has to nod in agreement because that seemed more than likely.

However that implied more headache because time travel is not a concept that’s easy to wrap his head around.

“Which means we’re messing with the future,” Yuta concludes and slaps his head on the wall. “Shit, man.”

“Which means we either need to watch a lot of sci-fi or you can ask Professor Joohyun to figure out how this stuff works but first we should go talk to the kid. Let him clarify his er...motives. You’re his dad, so that shouldn’t be too much of a problem, right?” Kun says, his hand reaching up to wipe the sweat from Yuta’s forehead.

“I hate serious talks with you. You seem so much smarter than me at those,” Yuta complains as they finally move into the room to face the the kid sitting like a damn emperor on vacation, ignorant to all the dimension’s chaos and calamity that Yuta guesses could be happening as a consequence of him falling back in time.

In a way Yuta has a feeling the kid gets that from him.

 

 

 

The child looks about twenty or twenty one and wordlessly puts the cubical device he was fiddling with earlier on the table once Yuta and Kun are seated. They eye it solemnly, the intricate lines and colours shining against their faces before there came the _beep,_ at which point the kid decides to get up.

 “I’ll leave you to talk to yourself in privacy?” he says and moves to wander around in another room and Kun isn’t slow to be even more horny saying, “I’ll come with you~” before Yuta elbows him in the throat and nails his arm to the table.

“Could you fucking stop? I get that he’s attractive but it’s gross,” Yuta growls at Kun who’s holding his throat in agony.

Kun painfully rolls on the floor, “I just wanted to show him around!”

“This is a two room apartment," Yuta pointedly glares at him, "the only thing you wanted to show him was your dick so shut up.”

“Hey! I’m just a decade too early! Otherwise that ass,” Kun says, making Yuta roll his eyes for the nth time that day, _“would be mine.”_

“God, you’re sick—hey where’s the kid?”

“I’m here!” he dutifully sounds from the next room. Yuta pats the spot beside him and motions, “Sit here. You're not going anywhere.”

There’s a streak of nervousness in the kid as he resorts to avoiding questions and complaints and sits beside Yuta with an air of obedience lingering around. Kun ogles the hell out of the kid but Yuta is too brain-exhausted to kick Kun again.

“So...you’re from the future,” Yuta states what meant to have come out as a question.

“I think we were going to interrogate beyond the obvious?” Kun whines, his slithering form on the floor but the kid ignores him, unaffected by his Uncle Kun’s pain.

“Yes dad.”

Yuta quirks an eyebrow. Twice. “So who’s my wife?”

The kid opens his mouth with an expression ready to object but then he shuts it with uncertainty, making Yuta gasp with redoubled suspicion.

Yuta turns to Kun, flummoxed and hands slapping the table, “See! He’s lying!”

“No I’m not!” the kid is quick to protest, “Dad you gotta believe me,” he whines and although every ounce of Yuta’s doubt almost fades away at the word ‘dad’ yet he decides against letting it affect him. Things from the future aren't always for the better, Yuta knows, he's watched Fairy Tail.

“Prove it. Prove that you’re from the future,” Yuta says and Kun is all for keeping the kid so it’s best he stays shut because he’ll superficially defend everything the kid says.

The kid sighs sadly and places his cuboid on the table, presses a few buttons and waits for the holograms to appear.

They are nothing like the holographic imagery CGI is capable of. Nothing like it. 

It's very real and there, even though there are no glass panels for reflection.

Yuta and Kun stare stupefied, bits of lighting from the hologram swallowing up the room and often hitting their skin. The exceptionally neat red with no vibrating pixels; everything is in symbols and Kun squints his eyes more at that because some of the little lettering Yuta can make out looks like Chinese.

“I’m not a great talker,” the kid mumbles, letting his fingers dance around the hologram like a pianist’s, “Dad, you—I mean the future you always scolds me for not speaking enough so I’m not sure if I’m the best person to prove that I’m from the future.”

Yuta was almost too busy looking at the intricate patterns of lights in the air that he forgets to pay attention to the kid, mesmerized entirely by the anachronistic technology he’s lucky enough to witness.

_Okay, holograms are cool. And totally convincing._

“Which is why I'd like to let the future you explain. Please, because this is important dad. As in really important in your timeline," the kid says and judging from the seriousness of his face Yuta can't help but comply because he feels like he's hearing _this needs to be done._

On side-note, it’s hard to conjure up all the self restraint to not go and give the kid a bone crushing hug at the rays of adorable-ness he’s emitting. Somehow Yuta manages to do so and keeping his composure intact, he mutters a begrudged "Fine, I'll talk to him—me whatever."

Something impromptu clicks in the room, making Kun spring up from the floor quizzically. The sound of a telephone suddenly ringing in the entire room startles everyone but the kid who only gestures to them to sit on the table, right beside the cubical device which for the sake of convenience and less confusion, Yuta would like to call a phone.

The kid takes his cap off and swipes his hair backwards and for a second and in such a way that has Yuta's eyes opening wide because that seemed awfully familiar. The phone’s still ringing. Yuta's heart thrums.

_‘I’ might pick it up anytime now._

“So I guess I’ll leave you talk in private—” the kid says and Yuta reads too much into his ever present hesitation to leave, grabs him by the back of his collar.

“You’re not going anywhere sonny,” Yuta declares and intensely focuses on the ringing of the phone. _I guess some things don’t change,_ he thinks and then he’s greeted by the flash of what looks like _him_ staring back at him on the screen of the kid’s phone.

But Yuta's dad has a beard. This guy, doesn’t unfortunately. All obvious conclusions stated—he’s looking at himself from the future.

“Winwin,” the person grunts and the kid beams, “Hi dad, meet dad.”

“Yeah I can see how stupid I used to look,” Yuta’s future self comments, giving a condescending sneer making Yuta scowl, “HEY! HOW DARE YOU—”

Kun chews his lip, appreciating how sharp 'future-yuta' looks and agrees, “Well the future you is kinda right—I mean you do look better in your thirties; at least your hair isn’t pan fried.”

“MY HAIR IS ROUGH BECAUSE I GOT ELECTROCUTED. _ELECTROCUTED,”_   Yuta fusses but it’s only met by the rolling of eyes both by Kun beside him and his future self on the screen simultaneously.

“Why aren’t you dead,” Kun grumbles and Yuta punches his in the throat again.

“Well I have a date in six minutes so you better hurry up with whatever you called me for,” Yuta’s future self says and it lights up a splinter in Yuta’s head.

“I’m sure your date can wait because we are going to discuss some _time travel crisis_ here,” Yuta snarls at the image of his future self on the screen, jumping to the topic of concern even though he really wants to ask why his future self doesn’t have facial hair ‘cause come on! He’s thirty and goatees are hella attractive, he’s always wanted to have one.

“It’s not a crisis honey,” Future-Yuta berates. “It’s just Winwin’s mutant abilities. Oh by the way, your ass is grounded, son.”

“But dad!” Winwin squeals and future Yuta on the display makes disgruntling noises.

“I agree. He should be grounded,” Yuta says but then quickly adds, “But you need to get your son back.”

“For now he’s your son, I’m tremendously enjoying this privacy as of current,” Future-Yuta winks and this time, Kun butts in to yell.

“Yuta, as much as I appreciate your genes for this gift to humanity that is your son, but you should get him back.”

“Well, it’s not my fault. He’s got summer vacation, he can go wherever he wants. It’s a free mutant type thing. They’ve got different laws applying to them, there’s little I can do because humans are so under-equipped in every way.”

“I can’t believe we’re having an actual mutant talk,” Kun says in disbelief, back falling on the couch.

“You won’t believe that I live in an era where science fiction comes true. I got a copy of the SHRA too. Await all the cool stuff,” Future-Yuta informs proudly, sending shudders of excitement through Yuta which he snaps out of because _focus! You need to get this kid out of you time don’t think about hand held laser shooters!_

“Dad can you not ground me?” the kid interrupts like a moping puppy.

“You’re skipping summer classes,” Future-Yuta scolds, “Where do I see an example to take off the house-ban, Winwin?”

“You are such a meanie in the future,” Kun whispers to Yuta who only yelps at his future self, “You named your kid Winwin? I mean I named my kid Winwin? Why would I name my kid Winwin?”

“Neither you nor I named him Winwin, if that makes you feel better,” Future-Yuta says and that’s one thing about the whole hour that makes Yuta’s headache lessen. He turns to Kun as if his face could offer some calamine to his face blistering from frustration, “I’m pretty sure Winwin can go back in his time like he came? Got any clue about that?”

“Nope,” Future-Yuta says and there’s a loud ding accompanied by a male voice raspily saying his name and Yuta stares aghast at how his future self’s face brightens up like a fucking billboard.

Future-Yuta turns one last time to stare at the screen, “I gotta go. Winwin, don’t cause trouble to Uncle Kun and your dad, they’re busy people. I’ll see you.”

“But you didn’t explain why he was here!”

“He’s here to make sure you and your spouse unite and look, I don’t have time to talk, gotta do things. Like knock up my husband—bye!”

There’s long beep after that.

And what feels like an eternity of disappointing silence.

Kun jabs Yuta’s side repeatedly with his index finger, “The future you is gay.”

Yuta groans, “I asked God for Morgan Freeman to narrate my life’s worst fiascos, not you, so shut up.”

“Oh nonononono I’m _thoroughly_  going to enjoy this. Does this mean, that the present you is gay too?”

“Kun please," Yuta bangs his head on the table because yes he was gay and no he didn't tell his friend that because his friend sort of dated his number one enemy and this is exactly the kind of information he wants to withhold from Lee fucking Taeyong. 

“And your son is a mutant. You had gay mutant babies. With another guy. Does Winwin like, go to Xavier's school for gifted children and everything?”

“I’m gonna ship you to outer space someday. In a deoxygenated tank. With Donald Trump. How ‘bout that?”

“No my point is…" Kun keeps on going and Yuta really _really_ wants to leave him bereft in the middle of the Atlantic, "...is that life looks promising for you."

Yuta's eyes widen. _Promising? A son...a family?_

He covers his face and hides a little to the side, shocked and feeling undeserving. Those things aren't possible. Meanwhile Kun continues ranting, "Don't ya think? Go on smile about it, your son has a great ass. It’s like, sculpted by the hands of great—”

“I DON’T NEED YOU TO POETICALLY DESCRIBE MY SON’S ASS FOR ME KUN!” Yuta shouts and the kid—Winwin, bursts into a fit of giggles.

"Winwin?" Yuta says, carefully enunciating it. _This is going to take a long time to get used to._

"Yes dad?" Winwin asks, politely and Kun places a hand on his chest and downright _whimpers_ at his innocent voice.

"Erm...are you...comfortable?" Yuta asks because that is the only question at the top of is head. The events of today have just dropped a child into his care, the least Yuta can do is extend some formal hospitality in the general convivial spirit and try to take responsibility for once given his tabloid history which could lead to a lot of unwanted questions.

_God, I have to be careful. How do I even hide him?_

"Other than Uncle Kun staring at me, I'm fine dad,” Winwin says sincerely and Yuta’s heart swells with pride because his son seems more well behaved than he probably never was. Or will be.

“You," Yuta immediately scowls at Kun, who's batting lashes at him, "Get out you pedophile."

“B-But-But—”

“No ‘but’s Candice. Out.” Yuta directs him to the door and slams it at Kun’s pissy face ceremoniously, earning a hearty laugh from Winwin.

"Better?" Yuta asks Winwin and the kid returns a dazzling smile, "You're the best dad."

“I’m not,” Yuta says and he doesn’t miss the way in which Winwin’s face falls but he continues, “I’m not actually the best. I don’t know how to take care of you...I’m still in university, I don't know how long you'll be staying here and you are—”

“I’m nineteen. And I'll be gone in a week,” the kid smiles.

Yuta's mouth quirks up, “You’re tall for nineteen. How did you even get here?”

"Telling you everything spoils the fun,” Winwin says, leaning back and grinning.

 _Yeah right._ A vein pops on Yuta’s forehead. _Expect your son to travel back in time and fuck up your life for fun. Totally cool with that._

"Okay so...aren't you gonna find your other parent? My err...”

“Husband,” Winwin finishes for him.

“Yeah.”

_Husband._

_What the fuckity fuck fuck._

“I actually arrived first at his place. So I guess I don’t have to?”

“So I’m second choice, eh? Please tell me I’m the bread-winner, to keep my pride intact,” Yuta replies dramatically and Winwin blabbers, “Dad, both of you are amazing people. At home as well as at work so don’t you worry about that.”

“I’m guessing he gave you my address...so he’s someone I know?”

“Yeah. He did actually. Pops said he lived in a big house while you lived in a tiny room which your roommate had abandoned. I guess which is where I am right now..." Winwin says, getting up to examine Yuta’s little place which looks like it’s the ruins from an era ages after the zombie apocalypse.

Yuta crosses his arms at that shake in Winwin’s voice, suspicion and mental calculations already trying to guess who his husband could be.

Somehow Winwin seemed to be sparing Yuta of the horror of the fact that he knew who he was getting married to.

“He told you not tell me who he is right?” Yuta asks bluntly.

“Well you two do know each other well enough,” Winwin smirks before innocently changing the topic, “I’m really hungry...” A vein pops on Yuta's head. _This kid is so like me it's annoying._

Yuta smiles and pat Winwin’s shoulder, “The food here is going to be old fashioned kid. Come on.”

Winwin blinks, “What do you think we eat in the future?”

“I don’t know...tiny uncooked flowers under the guise of gourmet? What do you think we eat?”

“Anything that’s not raw is great dad. I don’t wanna burden you.”

“Well that’s good because I was pretty tensed about how exactly I was gonna feed you since I can’t cook.”

Winwin follows behind Yuta as they rush downstairs and mount his bicycle, Yuta pedals to the grocery store and Winwin clings on tight to his back like a kid gaping at how everything looks so recognisably familiar yet different for him with stars in his eyes.

All the while, Yuta is thinking, he's going over Winwin’s speech pattern, his body language, his features. Most of it is heavily Yuta influenced, he knows himself that well to make an educated guess but the rest is at the same time heavily familiar that the feeling of not knowing who his husband is pressing him.

For now, it makes an interesting mystery to unfold.


	3. Chapter 3

The town is sufficient albeit small. Yuta moved here sometime around highschool after which he kept skipping grades so he wouldn't say he's spent precious memories here. His apartment is two roomed with a few chairs and a bed in one and scraps of metal in the other, he's found out that fixing things for his landlady from time to really makes her generous on the rent. Needless to say, Yuta has lived here for most of his life and known only a handful of people. Marriage somehow doesn't seem like him. He's never given relationships let alone marriage any thoughts at all. He lets that part of the problem rest and turns to Winwin.

“So...how much do you know about me?” Yuta asks the kid who chokes on his spit as he gets down from the motorcycle. Yuta can tell he's clearly not used to old transportation.

Winwin’s head is calculating the consequences of telling Yuta that the first thing he was about to answer was that he knew where Yuta likes to hide the fireproof safe, the secret stash of money in the house.

“You’re my father so...I guess everything?” Winwin smiles and Yuta can’t help but extend an affectionate hand to pet his yellow hair which looks like a fruit helmet.

Yuta laughs as they walk along the pavement, “What I meant was, how much do you know about me right now? In this time. The twenty two year old me. _”_

Winwin hums distractedly, letting his arms dangle loose as he walks beside him. Yuta notices his shoulders slump or maybe it’s just because of Winwin’s gymnast-like physique.

“You like One OK Rock,” Winwin blurts making Yuta grin, as they turn around another street, waiting to reach the general store.

“And you’re about to get your PhD which is really cool ‘cause you’re only twenty two and a few months away from getting it,” he adds turning to beam at Yuta who only laughs, “Is it still cool in the future?”

“Yeah it is! People right now are much smarter than people in my time,” Winwin says casually and like it's something out of a rote statistics book but it makes Yuta a teensy bit worried.

“But you go to school right? Please don't tell me you're skipping school because I'm really going to send you back if you are,” Yuta tells him sternly.

“Yes dad, I do go to school! I just have summer vacation...and a few classes which I hate...” Winwin hurriedly says much to his relief. 

“Good. School's important,” Yuta says, almost unbelieving how he was capable of nagging about school and academics when all he’d done was skip grades effortlessly and nap his way through his undergraduate classes.

He's suddenly reminded of his own life—how it’s all been so far because he’s looking at something new, he’s looking at his son. Yuta's astounded at the difference between how he was a couple of years ago and how Winwin is. Yuta chuckles, at least it seems he did parenting right.

 

“Also you can’t cook, but you’ve got a big heart so you try,” Winwin says joyfully, extremely enjoying the conversation as it is, pricking Yuta’s thought bubble.

“I don’t like to cook but it’s nice to hear I’m at least going to try it,” Yuta replies and they reach the general store.

“Papa throws it all in the garbage anyways,” Winwin says, squirming in excitement and rushing inside the general store like a fascinated kid in a theme park, “this is a general store?!”

“Yeah? Like, haven’t you seen one?” Yuta asks and Winwin gives him a no in the form of a shake of the head.

“Alright then lemme give you a 2k16 101,” Yuta says and Winwin lets out a stifled laugh as a cart is rolled towards him, “This is a cart.”

“I know what a cart is, dad. We have those on websites—”

“Just because I’m currently three years older to you doesn’t mean you can talk back son.”

“...sorry,”

Yuta wraps an arm around him and squeezes his shoulder, “Hey, it’s okay! I’m not scary and old! Just take that and go find what you want to eat,” he says, ruffling Winwin’s hair. “If you get lost, I’m by the soda cans over there. And I have limited budget by the way.”

Yuta isn’t sure Winwin heard the last part as he steered the cart in full speed, running past the walls of food.

 _I’m a father to a hyperactive kid,_  Yuta thinks and lets out a content smile anyways. He’s happy that the future he is able to provide a decent livelihood for him, since Winwin appears to be healthy and energetic besides bright and cheerful—Yuta remembers himself to be quite the opposite.

Taking his phone out, he absently begins to wander around the huge store, dribbling his fingers over the cans of coke on display and then remembers to call Kun.

> _‘Pops said he lived in a big house.’_

A lot of his classmates had big houses, that wasn’t enough information. It's as if Winwin doesn’t want Yuta to know. His future husband, doesn’t want Yuta to know. But Yuta’s not exactly a fan of this game of not knowing.

Yuta has not been against liking guys but did like guys but he definitely did not consider spend thirty something years of his life with anyone at all. It’s unlikely to the greatest degree, like Kun had said, him getting married and settling down is impossible. Marriage is completely irrelevant to his life.

Somehow that could be a valuable hint. The number of houses wouldn’t have grown by Winwin’s time considering population would only explode forcing people to move into tall apartment complexes. Besides, no one really wants a stable residence if there’s a whole world to travel.

So he’s got a house to track and a husband to get to know. Yuta would’ve searched for it himself but curiosity is eating him and he doesn’t have a computer to run the searches. But he has Kun and Kun simply makes the best PI.

“Hey nasty,” comes Kun’s voice from the other end after a his superman caller tune, “I’m guessing you need favours so get on with it—”

“—hey I’m not that bad Kun,” Yuta protests immediately but he’s about to realise that it’s in vain.

“The last time you bothered to call me was six months ago. And that was a small message saying ‘bring your grandma’s old silverware, I’m out of circuit wires’. So why don’t you tell me what you want so that I can finish that and then go back to my work because some people have normal college things to do which is obviously a foreign concept to you, genius.”

“I need you to give me the names of those with the largest houses.”

“My services apply to excavate more valuable information than useless house-hunting.”

“Kun, come on.”

“Really? That’s the toughest thing you could ask me? ‘Cause aliens have the largest houses. There, done.”

“No I mean those in this city and around.”

“Shit my dad’s gonna kill me if he knows that I'm not in campus right now.”

“I think senator Qian is the nicest dad on the planet plus I’ll cover for you. So—back to topic; people with the biggest houses, can you find that for me? Pretty please?”

“Right now I’d settle for an ugly please, I’m looking,” Kun says and then stops for a breath. “Y’know if Winwin isn’t telling you who your future husband is, it’s probably for the best interests. You shouldn’t let your curiosity get in the way—”

“You know who he is, don’t you?”

“Of course I do! Here’s the list. Got it down to four people with the biggest houses but one of them is yours—” Kun chirps jovially from the other end. By then, Yuta’s disappeared to a lonely corner of the store, he didn’t even realise how he’d walked up to there. Fortunately enough, there isn’t any shitty music playing to interrupt his conversation.

“My _dad’s_ house, you mean,” Yuta corrects him.

“Yes your dad's okay whatever so then it's three people,” Kun states. “Funnily, you know all of them.”

“Are you gonna tell me their names or do I have to punch you to find out?

“Fine fine I just think it's an easy guess. Like, a  _really_ easy guess I wasn't even surprised when Winwin told me who it was.”

“I’m surprised I didn’t catch Winwin telling you who my husband is but whatever get on with it, you're annoying me.”

“Don’t I always? First is—Ji Hansol,” Kun says, tone expecting some form of commentary from Yuta who’s more than happy to oblige.

“He's cute but the sex was boring. Wouldn't have married that,” he speaks into the phone. For some reason he thinks he hears Kun sigh in relief.

“Ten.”

“Would probably suggest a threesome and Johnny would skin me alive.”

“Taeyong.”

“Well he can go fuck my cats,” Yuta says and he finds himself at the soda aisle. Kun laughs smugly into his phone, “So I presume, you’ll be marrying from amongst unworthy candidates?”

“Shut up. You’ve been of no help, I need a new sidekick you won’t do,” Yuta fake-complains.

“Pssh whatever. But just for keeping you from blackmailing anyone because you’re brutal; your husband  _is_  one of those three. And I’ve done enough good deeds for today, I’m hanging up. Bye.”

Yuta snorts as his phone descends into his pocket. Between those three it’s most likely he would’ve married neither with genuine intentions. He walks to the lit up vending machine with coke lined up when he sees none other than—Lee Taeyong.

Who was too busy semi-fucking some classmate into the door of the vending machine but it’s okay Yuta’s unintentionally seen him do much more in even more publicly open places so it’s okay. Gross as always, but okay.

But right now Yuta just wants a coca cola and he can’t unless Taeyong moves himself from before the machine.

To cut it short, Yuta annoys the hell out of Taeyong and the feeling's mutual. They haven't been on good terms ever since the first day of highschool because as Yuta thinks if Taeyong had certain anger issues he should have dealt with them on his own and not take them out on Yuta. Well, Yuta couldn't deny that a couple of monthly fist-fights over something trivial did make him feel a lot better and he could always say Taeyong's the one who started it all. 

Arguing is fun, Yuta doesn't have any better mediums of entertainment while he's neck deep in studies, being a lab assistant and helping out in the workshop, he considers it stress relief and Taeyong probably feels the same.

Yuta slams the glass door open to thump forcefully on Taeyong’s back, making his attention detract from sucking on the classmate’s— _oh it’s that girl from the netball team, she’s really cute, didn’t think she’d go for Taeyong._

Taeyong glares vindictively. The girl runs away, and Yuta farcically crinkles his eyebrows, "My bad," not realising that Taeyong has moved closer in no time at all, shoving him to the wall.

“What do you want?” he demands, the four fingers of his that are wrapped around Yuta’s arms are now beginning to exert so much pressure that they're gonna leave marks.

Yuta bites back the pain, “I wanted a soda.” Taeyong’s vile expression shows no inflection so Yuta continues to humor him despite knowing this was definitely going to end up in a fist fight. Like it mostly did.

“I saw you were pretty busy but you wouldn't move so I opened the door and..oops?” Yuta gives him a rueful grin which makes Taeyong raise his fist but then, something falls down with a loud metallic clang and both freeze.

“Pops?”

It’s Winwin.

He’s standing stoned to his spot, his face blown off of colour at the sight and Yuta is looking at his son break into pieces at that very moment.

Taeyong moves off him, Winwin keeps looking at them with eyes going glassy with what Yuta could see were tears springing up and it takes Yuta a second to realise even after Taeyong walks forward and in shock whispers, “Winwin.”

Taeyong is his other parent.

Winwin drops all the armful of candy and ice cream tubs he was holding and runs out of the store. “Shit, Winwin wait!” Yuta yells back, shoving Taeyong aside and sprinting.

 _I’m married to Taeyong?_   Yuta thinks to himself as he runs in the cold monsoon weather trying to catch up with Winwin who is too fast for his own good. But his head is levitating another thought.

_Why him?_

“Winwin slow the fuck down, damn it!” Yuta shouts, gives a chase and finally manages to catch up tp him in the parking lot. He feels sick to his stomach, he's out of words to say and he...can't help but feel this as wrong.

Taeyong is the wrong one. It makes zero sense, holds no meaning and a child—for fuck's sake _why?_

_It's wrong._

Winwin pants, refusing to look Yuta in the eye. They catch their breaths and Yuta thumps his back, "I still have to pay for that mess jeez..."

_Winwin has to be from a different universe or something._

"Dad...why were you...?” Winwin is unable to finish, his eyes begging him to tell him something contradictory to what he saw but Yuta finds no reason in hiding anything.

"Taeyong likes to pick a fight. So do I. What you saw—how much did you see?"

"Papa isn't like this! He’s—you two don't hate each other!"

Yuta gulps. _So he could tell, that easily._

"Winwin it is like that! We—he’s—gosh how much did you see?"

"I saw him angry and—" Winwin’s face is now red, scrunched and trying to contain his horror. Yuta feels like he’s been slapped and pummeled at that very sight.

 

"Kid I'm okay. We've done worse. It's all okay." Yuta meant to offer consolation but it only makes Winwin’s eyes widen.

“Worse? Dad, what do you mean by worse? He’s hit you?!”

"Winwin I’ve hit him too! It’s normal for us! We don’t get along and we fight. You don’t need more explanation!” Yuta says but Winwin is shivering profusely unwilling to believe what Yuta says. Yuta puts a hand on his son's shoulder, "I really think you've come to the wrong reality Winwin...let’s talk at home alright?”

But Winwin only looks past Yuta’s shoulder and in the lonely alley it brings chills as Yuta turns to face what or who Winwin was gazing at. He dubiously looks at the man, who only takes off his helmet to reveal he’s none but the douchebag Yuta hates vehemently.

“Move,” Taeyong says, shoving past Yuta and running over to Winwin in worry.

_Couldn’t you fuck off for a second Taeyong?_

“Winwinie are you alright?” Taeyong whispers, patting the kid’s head and Yuta almost snorts at how fake all of his concern is, no matter how genuine it sounds.

“I’m-I’m okay Pops,” Winwin says and those words trigger an inferno of disgust in Yuta simultaneously making him want to drop to the ground and cry because as it is his past and present have never been in favour of him and now he’d have to spend his future with Taeyong of all people?

“Come on, we’ll go home,” Taeyong says and ushers the kid but Yuta defends, “Who the hell do you think you are to take him away? He’s coming with me.”

“Yeah, right. I doubt there’s enough space in your shitty apartment for him.”

“Just because I don’t have a huge mansion with my name plastered on it doesn’t mean I can't take care of him. He’s coming with me,” Yuta argues, a vein already popping on his forehead at Taeyong’s arrogance which is to Yuta, his second nature.

Taeyong moves nearer and Yuta is counting the seconds until Taeyong is going to push him to the wall and beat him to pulp but Taeyong grabs it, putting as much pressure as possible to make it hurt like fire.

Yuta grimaces as Taeyong growls, “Let him choose then, where he goes because it’s pretty obvious I’m the clear choice.”

“Are you?” Yuta says through gritted teeth but when he turns to Winwin who's disappeared.

He didn’t realise how he even let his attention get diverted by his and Taeyong’s banter that he didn’t notice Winwin wasn’t there anymore.

“Winwin?” Yuta calls out and a look of worry replaces the previous rage on Taeyong’s face as he lets go of Yuta’s wrist. Yuta ignores the pain and the cuts left by Taeyong’s nails as he runs around calling Winwin’s name. Taeyong runs in the opposite direction and they both stare at each other, not knowing where Winwin’s whereabouts.

“He could be at my place,” Yuta breathes out and sprints only to find Taeyong grabbing his arm and stopping him, “I could give you a ride.”

Yuta is so nervous and shaky that he doesn’t even mind sitting behind the most insufferable man he’s ever known just to find his son. Winwin means a lot more than his ego at the moment. He couldn’t have gone far and the only place he knows is Yuta’s apartment and Taeyong’s house and the nearer location to search is of course Yuta’s.

They barge in and Yuta, having been pensive throughout the ride is no less anxious as he pushes the door open, rummaging through his two little rooms, looking under every possible space to find Winwin.

“He isn’t here...” Yuta says and Taeyong looks similarly distraught. Taeyong called his butler to check if Winwin was there at his house but on finding out he wasn’t there.

“Let’s search around the block,” Taeyong suggests and for the first time Yuta complies, never resting a second until they’ve fished through every possible alley, searched every area, peeped in unsuspecting people’s backyards and tried everything they could with the energy they could conjure up.

_Maybe it was a dream?_

Yuta is so tired and the pain in his stomach is getting immense to think all of this as a dream.

“I think he went back to his time,” Taeyong says once they’re back in Yuta’s smoky room, it smells like burnt metal all over and Taeyong has to pull out his handkerchief to block out the fumes coming from the second room which was Yuta’s workshop.

Yuta’s head snaps up at that. Taeyong’s heart skips more than a beat as he tries breathing heavily to calm himself thereafter.

With no responses from Yuta, Taeyong thinks it’s best to take it as his cue to leave but Yuta’s phone breathes Darth Vader breath and Yuta knows it’s Kun so he picks it up.

“Put this on speaker,” Kun says, sounding enraged but Yuta is really unconcerned about whatever Kun seems so angry about.

“Kun I’m really in a box here so could you-”

“I know Taeyong’s there. Both of you are hearing this.”

“Kun, Winwin is—”

Yuta doesn’t have much discernment to do or words to finish with before Kun is downright yelling.

“Listen the fuck up you idiots. Do you even know what sort of situation you're putting Winwin in? Right now he's looking at the two most important people in his life trying to slit each other's throats and that's watching your parents fight do you think it's funny? He's crying himself to sleep you asses—and sidenote: it’s disgusting to see you two fight and you’re his fucking  _parents_ and he can’t fucking handle it okay! He told me he probably expected to find his parents dating each other at this point or at least on some good terms and I know you two hate each other's guts but at least for him, fucking act like you don't.”

Yuta sags on the couch, his face pale and frozen, eyes searching for something on the floor but shaking in a way as if to prevent tears and in Taeyong there arises an need to hold him. Taeyong also wants Kun to stop, he’s close to smashing the phone because the impact of those words on Yuta keeps increasing. He can see it and it stings him.

“Winwin can't see you two fight. No child can see that it's exasperating and Taeyong you might’ve never been in that spot but Yuta you know this, you know how it feels to see the first cracks in your family and see it fall apart. Please if you're not idiots do me a favour and apologize to your son...and he’s in my house right now, obviously. Give him some space and then explanations. Bye.”

The end of Kun’s call is the begging of a literal and figurative hailstorm, one raging outside and forcing Taeyong to stay in Yuta’s apartment for the night if any prospects of such remained and the other in both their heads, making them reconsider all the grudges and ill-bearings they’ve kept.

Yuta gets up and crashes on his bed, not bothering with a blanket. _That's enough of thinking for today, shut the hell down._

Taeyong had brought a motorcycle, getting sick because of drenching wasn't an option. Taeyong looks around awkwardly, the floor would have to do. 

“You got a blanket?” Taeyong says and it hits him a second after, that that’s probably one of the few times he has said something to him that wasn’t laced with anger or the need to insult.

Yuta doesn’t answer, only throws one at him, not bothering to spare him a glance. Taeyong settles on the floor, letting his back rest on the wall as he stuffs his earphones in, hoping to block out the rain but his music library is throwing the most depressing tracks at him to the point that he throws it to the side and hopes that by tomorrow things will piece themselves together.

He looks at Yuta, who is shivering on the bed—not the cold kinda shivering but the crying kind leaving Taeyong with an indecisive hand on the floor to push himself up but he’s stuck between whether he should or he should not. He chooses against it.

After all, Yuta’s strong, he’s always been.


	4. Chapter 4

Taeyong couldn't sleep.

Though he was settled comfortably in his blanket cave, he wasn't able to. The storm outside didn't help neither did the fact that Yuta also remained awake for the most part of the night. The causes were partly the events of the previous day; how Winwin had magically appeared in his house, revealing that he was from another time and that he wanted Yuta’s address because apparently they were _married_ but strikingly, it _hadn’t_ come as a shock to Taeyong.

More than the reaction of his own, he was worried about Yuta’s, since it was bound to be explosive, fueled by his magnanimous detest for him.

Winwin assured him he wouldn't tell Yuta immediately and then he disappeared, leaving Taeyong feeling like he had been under the effect of some form of airborne hallucinogen but then Winwin wasn’t his imagination, and neither is the fact that he’s begun to understand why he married Yuta in the future.

Taeyong couldn’t sleep because Yuta was still there, pretending or trying to sleep on the bed and every time the rain slowed down outside, he could hear the little hoarse exhales laden with pain coming from his mouth.

Yuta could pretend all he wanted but he was curled up in a ball and sleeping but Taeyong watched him sit up and stare blankly at the wall opposite to him then go to his mini fridge, forge ice from the tray to a plastic bag, teeter to the kitchen and fill in water in the ice tray and then wince while putting the ice on his wounds.

Those were the bruises from Taeyong’s punches, he hates that he doesn't remember when he'd made them. Simply looking at Yuta lift his shirt to reveal the purple marks was making Taeyong feel like going outside and retching because he'd never felt this disgusted with himself.

All the fighting now seemed like the dumbest things they could’ve ever done.

Taeyong tries to find excuses to annul the torrent of guilt rushing  over to him. Yuta has punched him pretty bad too, insulted him every time he found him in his line of vision. The act was mutual, so was the rage to punch. But now, seeing him like this; hissing in pain as he tries to soothe the marks, his eyes shining with tears threatening to overflow, Taeyong couldn't count the reasons why he shouldn't have hit Yuta on his fingers anymore.

“Got enough of staring at me?” Yuta chirps out, snapping Taeyong out of his thinking, he can’t find a comeback, he doesn’t know what to say anymore. Yuta turns his head to see the window colouring with the little twilight and then sighs.

The sound is so sad, exhausted and it makes all of the cumulative guilt from all the mean things he might’ve said to him come rushing like scythes cutting to his head.

Taeyong gets off the floor and in one swift walk, he’s facing Yuta.

“I'm sorry.”

Yuta knows exactly what he’s apologising for and refuses to look him in the eye, shifting further to the centre of the bed to sit Indian-style. He knows how hard it is to avoid the honesty that Taeyong’s eyes have, he almost forgives him.

“Go to hell.”

Taeyong believes he can coax forgiveness out of Yuta if he refuses to waver from his adamance, so he tries again, “I'm sorry Yuta.”

“Shut up.”

“I'm so—”

“I swear to God if you don't shut up I will—ow!”

Taeyong takes the plastic bag of ice from Yuta’s hands and had presses them firmly on the bruise deepening in colour. One hand held up Yuta shirt and the other iced the skin with unbroken concentration. Yuta had been quick to take the ice from Yuta’s hands and moved it over the bruise.

He can’t believe he’d dropped to a level where it took him six full sleepless hours to face his mistakes which were the bruises on Yuta’s body.

“You're doing this wrong,” Taeyong tells him and really hates himself right now, Yuta’s not the only who’s taken hits but Taeyong hadn’t known he didn’t heal fast like he did. He runs the ice over him tenderly, tears prick in Yuta’s eyes from the pain and Taeyong is trying to be as gentle as possible but then it feels like the ice won't make the bruises disappear.

In the same way that it won’t make his guilt disappear.

He notices dried blood on Yuta’s inner thigh which had seeped through the denim. “How did you get that?” he asks immediately and Yuta averts his concerned eyes, turning aside. Taeyong turns Yuta’s face to glare at him fiery determination and Yuta keeps mum.

“Answer me.”

“There was a piece of metal...sticking out from that vending machine. It’s nothing a-and you should get lost,” Yuta says and his comeback at Taeyong’s eye-roll dies when his fingers brush over the wound and he whimpers at the stinging pain.

“You need to wipe that clean it’s all red,” Taeyong says and Yuta’s fazed look observes the segue between asshole-Taeyong and suddenly-medic-Taeyong, as if that changes things at all.

"I know that and I can see that," Yuta snaps at him at the right moment but he realises it’s wrong when Taeyong conciliatory eyes have him in chains.

 _We need to stop this,_ even though Taeyong doesn’t say it, Yuta knows that much by that look.

_We need to stop fighting._

The question stands as to whether Yuta agrees.

“I'll go and get some Band-Aids—" Taeyong mutters looking around to find some but Yuta has only weird action figures and boxes full of study material, discarded wrappers— _does he even clean this place?_

"Don’t,” Yuta says, stopping Taeyong from leaving the room. The moment feels like Yuta wants him to stay but his next words convince Taeyong otherwise.

“Don’t play good Samaritan. I don’t need you to take care of me. And don't beat yourself up, I punched you too. We’ve punched each other it’s no big deal—"

"But this is _bad,_ Yuta you need treatment for that—”

Taeyong stops protesting when Yuta lets out a sad, exhausted laugh.

"You won first prize then,” Yuta tells him in the same bitter manner, “for the punching competition. I'm hating keeping your company, I don't like losing because I'm too weak."

"Yuta if there's anything—" Taeyong can’t help himself from saying that, because the only thing that’s making sense in all of this fuckton of crap is that he’s still hoping it’ll be better once he and Yuta drop this baggage. This baggage of hatred.

"Coffee."

He almost didn’t hear Yuta say it because the sound was so weak and soft but he noticed because it somehow made him feel like a piece of the many shards that were piercing his heart had melted.

"What?"

"I want coffee,” Yuta demanded, if that feeble sound could be called a demand.

So they go grab coffee.

 

 

 

“He came to you first didn’t he?” Yuta says and it brings Taeyong back from whatever he was thinking of while absently gazing across the soon to be occupied seats of the café.

“Err...”

“Winwin,” Yuta clarifies, voice hoarse from the hot coffee having slid his throat, “I was talking about Winwin.”

“Yeah. He did,” Taeyong replies. The hair at the back of his neck is standing to the tip from the jitters the unusual conversation is bringing. One, he’s in an empty cafe with someone with whom he’s hardly ever been on the frenemy level with let alone the ‘friend’ one, two, Doyoung the sneaky snake was hissing smugly from the counter when he should be paying attention to his job and three, it’s only three sentences but it is a fucking conversation.

No hitting. No insults. Taeyong feels like he’s achieved some sort of high score.

Doyoung’s inability to contain his curiosity eventually forces him into gesturing Taeyong to come over to the counter to have a morning chat. Taeyong reluctantly gets off the table and when he reaches the counter, he thinks he shouldn’t have overthought the face that Yuta would actually be affected in the slightest if he’d left, since he kept on sipping the first of the fourteen cups of various coffee Taeyong had just bought him.

“If you’re dating him, you’re digging to bankruptcy pal. Look at all that coffee he’s making you buy,” Doyoung says, skipping greetings because he only greets when he’s got something he wants like sex, which he knows Taeyong says yes to all the time. “I’d encourage you though, it’s good for my cafe.”

"You don’t run this cafe, you’re just a part-time cashier. And how does any of this look like dating to you?” Taeyong shoots him a glare and Doyoung defensively argues, “Well you usually bring random people to your bed and I guessed he might be something else because you actually brought him here. It’s an unusual spike in your activity graph, I thought you two hated each other.”

“We do—I mean, it’s...”

Doyoung raises and eyebrow in the way that Taeyong still hasn’t been able to quite figure out how he does it.

“What is it, complicated? Progressing? Wrong train?”

“Lemme just stop you right there,” Taeyong says and Doyoung huffs and presses his forearms on the counter with his ‘talk’ face. Taeyong stumbles over a million haphazard frenzy of words, “I-I'm trying to fix things between us; I've made... mistakes...I guess that’s what it is. Yeah.”

"Do you accept them?" Doyoung asks casually, his insinuating voice reaching an annoying crescendo.

"Why the hell would I be admitting them then?"

"Right. Then ask yourself _why_ you’re admitting them all of a sudden,” Taeyong hears his friend saying this with stressed enunciation on each syllable that rivalled a language instructor’s.

“Why? Can’t a man try to be better?” Taeyong grumbles and his abstention from any discussion that forces him to talk about Yuta in the slightest doesn’t go unnoticed by Doyoung.

“Don’t pull the _‘I want to try to be a better person was a new year's resolution I'm gonna start following out of the blue because I suddenly repent my sins’_ thing because I sure as fuck am not buying it,” Doyoung says, jabbing Taeyong with a fork to get an answer out.

“Hey I'm not trying to be a better person for Santa or whatever. I just, maybe I realised that there were others whom I have to prove myself to, like my family...” it’s Winwin’s face that emerges in his head when he says ‘family’, “I mean they don't want to see this fuckboy reputation I’ve gotten myself, do they?"

"Hmm, but there’s nothing wrong with you being a y’know whatever a playboy who likes to have a lot of bedroom adventures,” Doyoung expresses which only makes Taeyong sigh and "That's not what Yuta thinks,” slips out of his mouth before he could even think about what to say.

Doyoung beams at how he managed to bring Taeyong on the topic of importance. "Oh so suddenly Yuta’s opinion matters? What happened to you?"

“God you are so—” Taeyong would’ve snapped some incoherent response back but his phone buzzes the Ghibli opening and making Yuta eye the air around him suspiciously to find the source of the noise and Doyoung stifling his laughter through his rabbit teeth.

Taeyong trudges to a random corner despite privacy being nonexistent in the empty cafeteria with Yuta slurping coffee loudly at one end and Doyoung creepily staring at him. He’s pretty sure he broke up with the swimming team captain over text (whose name was too long and complicated for him to remember, not that she minded, she was super nice like that) so he’s expecting the usual post-relationship-deathnote threats but instead, the voice he hears is one that awfully sounds like Kun.

After last night’s little lecture, Taeyong visibly tenses when he hears him.

_"As much as I'm enjoying playing babysitter for your gorgeous son, since both of you are shits and thrust enough responsibilities in my face already; you’re gonna have to collect your ward."_

And that is completely on a different lane than what Taeyong’s plans for today are.

"I can’t right now, I’m sorry...so uh, Kun can you drive him to my place?" Taeyong begs, his voice thinning at the ends.

 _"You're aegyo doesn't work on me Lee Taeyong,"_ Kun says robotically from the other end.

"I can't leave Yuta alone."

_"Uh...what?"_

"No I—he needs me. I mean he needs an injection."

_“I know you two are married n’ all but this is all sounding very weird, I’m concerned.”_

“I meant he has to get vaccinated. He got stabbed by a metal last night and-and he can’t go to the doctor by himself, right?”

_“Such a relief to know you’re his babysitter now. I’ll send you the list of his allergies asap—”_

“—I’m not babysitting okay! Just—you know what Kun, I don’t even know what’s wrong with me anymore.”

_“Well if I had a satellite baymax I’d tell you what’s wrong with you...but listen, and I know that with Winwin here it’s gonna be a lot of ‘YuTae’ getting along.”_

“You just made a fucking ship name. Oh my go—”

 _“Let me finish,”_ Kun says partly to shut him up and then continues, _“Yuta’s got a heart okay?”_

Taeyong waits seriously for what Kun has to say fo he’s growing careful about all things Yuta.

_“Try proving to him that you do too.”_

 

 

 

After hours of pacing in his front porch, Taeyong finally sees Kun arriving with his son in the passenger seat. Once Kun opens the door, Taeyong rushes past him to get to Winwin, ignoring Kun to the fullest.

"You could at least say hello to an old friend," Kun says and it stimulates Taeyong to blabber mannered words.

“Thank you, for bringing him," Taeyong says and then Winwin snores loudly from inside the car, making Kun and Taeyong laugh instantly.

“You take the legs, I’ll take his arms,” Taeyong suggests and they proceed to pull him out that way.

“It’s like we’re dragging a corpse,” Kun mutters as Taeyong carefully brings a hanging sleepy Winwin inside his living room to settle on a nearby futon.

“Scandalous senator’s son, scandalous,” Taeyong says and Kun punches him playfully earning a giggle. “Y’know I always thought I’d be holding be son in my arms when he’d be a baby first, not a lanky nineteen year old.”

Taeyong smiles at the sleeping image of his son. Nevertheless, it gives him the same satisfaction.

“I’m sorry for all this trouble...” Taeyong mumbles and Kun straightaway laughs manically at that.

“You’re son is too hot to be classified as trouble and that sounds practiced," Kun remarks smiling tiredly. They’d been good friends, despite Kun’s closeness to Yuta and Taeyong’s despicable reputation they’d known each other since they were kids, it’s hard to put  barrier in that.

“How is Yuta?" he asks Taeyong all of a sudden and it makes him remember that he’d left Yuta all alone in the cafe.

_Shit._

“He’s uh...”

“You have no idea where he is right?”

 

 

 

“Welcome to Nakamoto Yuta’s guide to time travel for idiots! Yay? Come on guys be a bit enthusiastic? Gimme a yay!” Yuta says, going over to fix the projector which he’d taken without authorization from the lab. His prepared excuse was that he was top student so he could do whatever the hell he wanted and that was if anyone caught him which was unlikely.

“For the last time Yuta, we are not your thesis committee,” Johnny says and Ten nods in approval like he nods at everything Johnny says in general.

“And we’re sitting on the floor because you’re too stingy to buy chairs for us—”

“That's great because I'm here to discuss cool stuff like time travel, not listen to your decor suggestions,” Yuta sasses them and Ten stares back dubiously.

“Why would you suddenly be interested in time travel, you thought that shit was too complicated and irrelevant,” Ten asks and Yuta awkwardly begins forgetting how to fix the projector as he gets jittery with nervousness.

“Uhh...it’s for science,” Yuta says, nodding to sound more sure of himself.

Johnny and Ten look at each other unimpressed and bored beyond astronomical degrees, but they dare not take out their phones lest Yuta should swat their hands with the whip he’s holding for that same purpose.

“Look I need you guys to be supportive because I am in a bad place right now, a very _very_ bad place,” Yuta stresses with some hope to infect sense upon his other friends.

“Well then your problem bro,” Johnny and Ten say in unison because that’s what they always manage to do that to him.

“I have a hypothesis,” Yuta begins, much to Ten’s chagrin and Johnny snorts while his head falls backwards to rest on the wall.

“That being?”

“Let’s just assume that in the future I will erm...have certain repulsive differences in my life,” Yuta says and even though Johnny and Ten have closed eyes, they’re listening because they’re good friends like that.

“You obviously will, so?”

“So...if I get a precognitive vision—suppose, of the future me; is it best concluded that it is accurate?”

“Accurate...wait, are you suggesting lucid dreaming could be false?”

“I’m saying I mean I’m asking whether those dreams could be from another reality. Another world. Parallel universe. Second dimension and all of that shit,” Yuta says and Ten gets up and unplugs Yuta’s PC from the socket, picks it up and hands it to him before leaving.

“Ask a computer, because unlike us, it cares about giving you an answer.”

“I hate you guys!” Yuta manages to yell before Johnny kicks the door shut with his foot.

Yuta sinks into his bed and lies down only to find that he’s got a good spread of books on it which cut into his back painfully so he springs up and sighs.

The chances of Winwin being from another reality were little. It was that magnitude is what worried Yuta.

It was that ‘less’ that made him think his future was doomed because he is going to marry Taeyong in the future, whether he likes it or not. His thoughts won’t stop going back to the moment in the morning, when Yuta had almost shut his eyes tight because he had been expecting Taeyong, with whom he’s never had a single wakeful serene moment with, to punch him yet again, hurt him like he always did but he didn’t.

Yuta discerns had he been in Taeyong’s place he’d have used the private opportunity to extract the revenge he could to satisfy himself.

Instead of re-punching his stomach, Taeyong had iced his wounds. Yuta saw the cuts on Taeyong’s cheeks which had happened due to last week’s fight but he wouldn’t put a bad-aid to that, he wouldn’t be caring like Taeyong had been. The look in Taeyong’s eyes as he had held the ice pack to his stomach seemed of such determination that it seemed he wished he had the power to heal them.

Instead of expectantly refusing, Taeyong had driven him to the cafe, and easily bought Yuta all the weird coffee he’d wanted.

There’s a quick text from Taeyong on his phone. He doesn’t know the number, but only he could have sent it because it reads:

 

> _winwin wants you to stay at my place tonight. Don’t say no or he’ll cry._

Then one more comes in a little later.

 

> _Can I pick you up? cuz it might rain_

Whatever things were changing into, made Yuta remember that they were to be married. He doesn’t know why a few tiny gestures of concern from someone who he thinks is biologically incapable of having sympathy stir a whole new whirlwind in him.

Yuta types back a hasty ‘yes’ (for Winwin, he tells himself) and throws his phone on the bed, rushing to find his favourite t-shirt.

_...it might not be half bad,I guess..._

 

 

“You tricked me,” Yuta growls as Taeyong parks his car and goes to hold the door open for Yuta.

“Come on, you don’t want tetanus do you? Doyoung’s mom has to leave for her night shift soon so don’t be a wuss and get that injection.”

_“You tricked me.”_

“I didn’t trick you, I just chose to leave out a little piece of information,” Taeyong covers up expertly, “Chop chop, out of the car.”

“...no”

“Yuta it’s just an injection and you’re not a kid!”

“YOU FUCKING TRICKED ME!”

“WELL YOU WOULD HAVE HAD TO GET IT ANYWAY! COME ON!”

Yuta’s refusal to budge comes in the form of him hanging onto the steering wheel while Taeyong tries to pull him out. Out of lack of any further verbal persuasion, Taeyong only sighs and picks him, throwing him over his shoulder.

“I didn't ask for a fucking buttshot and stop manhandling me!”

“I’ll stop manhandling you once you’re sensible.”

“I really _really_ hate you, y’know?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  ~~belated~~ Happy Birthday to Athena <3 I'm seriously inept at remembering birthdays...  
> 

Taeyong’s apologies for forcibly dragging Yuta to Doyoung’s mom’s to get him injected with toxoid (which for the record could have been _anything else_  according to Yuta, considering it was _Taeyong_ at the end of the day and he could play nice and yet be evil) and then pinning Yuta to the chair, pinching him to stop yelling and running away once he’d seen the needle—are a nice peaceful outdoor lunch with him and Winwin. Yuta forgives him by an eighty percent or so since Winwin looks very happy stuffing ice cream cakes in his mouth but the other twenty percent of disgust is primarily because Taeyong is sitting right across him.

Yuta purposely drops his spoon on the well mowed grass just so that Taeyong’s hot butler Thomas would come and get him a new one. Then he decides to break the cold air, “So...I figure we’re going to sit here and discuss this casualty over British cakes and tea?”

“Yuta what the hell are British cakes?” Winwin hears Taeyong berate.

Yuta holds up a Victoria sponge, “This one’s named after the queen, right? And we’re eating it. Collateral damage.”

Then there’s the dominant sound of Taeyong’s facepalm. Yuta shrugs and eats the cake in one go, he hasn’t had decent food since Kun cooked tasteless pasta for him days ago.

_“Dad. Pops.”_

Winwin’s groan gets their attention in an instant.

“Hm?”

“Uncle Kun told me you two don’t like each other...” Winwin begins and Taeyong shoots him a look that says ‘let’s not talk about it’ and then Winwin returns a pouty look that says ‘why not?’ which makes Yuta, who doesn’t really get the whole conversation through facial muscles thing, interrupt like the grand old jury.

“To say I didn’t ‘like’ him would be an overstatement. I kept on sneezing throughout my kindergarten days and I didn’t realise it was due to my undiscovered allergy to this pimp.”

“But you’re not sneezing now,” Taeyong says, the glare never left his eyes.

“It was an expression,” Yuta clarifies, sticking his tongue out at him and stealing Taeyong’s sesame bagels because _scrumptious._

“Why don’t you two look at each other?” Winwin asks them out of the rainbow. The uneaten half of bagel out of Yuta’s mouth drops into his tea cup. Taeyong, though devoid of any embarrassing blunders, looks equally shocked at the question.

“What?”

“Eye contact. It’s very important,” Winwin states while waving a hand in between them. Yuta swallows his food and turns to give Taeyong a fake get-me-another-bagel-or-imma-punch-you smile. Taeyong looks visibly traumatized.

Winwin, sighing at the forced looks of congeniality thinks, _it’s probably the best they can do_ , before moving on with his second step to making them a tad bit friendly, “Okay now say something nice to each other.”

“You’re full of shit.”

“You look like Paris Hilton had sex with smeagol.”

Winwin gets off his chair to yell, “OH COME ON!”

Yuta looks unaffected and shrugs, “Look, I didn’t go to charm school like he did okay? Complimenting is just _lying_ to get stuff done and I don’t lie.”

Winwin whimpers, “Try?”

Taeyong makes an X of negation with his arms, “Nope. Not doing it.”

Winwin falls back into his seat, exasperated and feeling even more hopeless than what he’d begun with. “I am never gonna get born if you guys continue like this,” he mutters to himself.

“Winwin you could be from another reality,” Taeyong worries, “How are you hundred percent sure we are the right versions of your parents?”

Yuta nods and adds, “For all I know it is really impossible I’m married to this-this,” Yuta rummages through his vocabulary with obscene hand gestures, “wombat.”

It’s funny how Winwin had decided to escape his parent’s anniversary’s mushiness by falling back in time and now he sort of misses them being all over each other. The Taeyong and Yuta he knows are equally sarcastic but they’ve never used it against one another and they are _nothing_ like the Taeyong and Yuta of now.

It almost makes him think he’s in the wrong place but he isn’t. This is the same earth with seven continents and a half eaten Antarctica.

“I’ve umm been to other dimensions,” Winwin speaks up.

 _That_ gets their attention on a tripled magnitude. Winwin purses his lips and then continues, “It’s a mutant thingy-long story but I’ve been to other dimensions and I know the difference.”

“What are you, a multi-dimensional night crawler?” Yuta snaps and Taeyong elbows him in the stomach.

“You two are my parents. And I just-I know it because even across so many universes, the one you fall fo— _the one you marry,_ doesn’t change. I know you guys don’t like each other but give it a push. Please just spend a day together, like a date or something.”

Yuta, who apparently had been listening gravely gives Taeyong a thoughtful look which makes Winwin gasp internally. The scene is like déjà vu; that is exactly how his dad looks at him when he’s worried.

It’s that look that shows that _he relies on him._

“That’s a no kid,” Yuta sighs, turning to Winwin now, “You’re asking for the impossible.”

Winwin stands up, towering over the two and threatens, _“I’m calling Uncle Kun_ _—_ _”_

“OKAY OKAY! WE’RE GOING!”

 

 

 

Had Winwin been a toddler Taeyong would’ve thought going to a bookstore and dropping him off in the play den while he figured out how to avoid Yuta and his air-piercing kill-rays was the best way to go but then Winwin is nineteen. When Taeyong was nineteen, he only drank and held the best (scandalous and wild) parties that were aimed to make it to the headlines. Well most of this continued until his dad put him on slut-ban for a month and well that didn’t go well because he doesn’t survive the combination of depression, access to alcohol and the no-sex period in a good way. So the only thing he remembers about being nineteen is probably drinking to death. And the hospital.

Funnily enough, Yuta had come to see him too. Which reminds Taeyong he knew nothing about him. He didn’t  know what Yuta was like at all besides knowing he was weak to a punch to the right side of the jaw. Taeyong grimaces at the useless detail he knows and boy, does he feel terrible. In consequence, he’s going with whatever Winwin has in plan for them. In fact, he’s willing to wear a get-along shirt if it makes Yuta forgive him.

Probably the concepts of morale and empathy are hitting him _now_ which shows Taeyong that he’s got to be better.

An instance of how difficult that is, is the urge not to snap at Yuta while he disses his music choice and keeps on skipping his favourite tracks while in the car.

“I’m surprised Kun’s your new best friend even after he was pursuing your ass a couple of hours ago,” Yuta says, eventually giving up and covering his ears to insult Taeyong’s music taste further. He’s seated beside Taeyong, who’s driving while Winwin is sent behind because his long legs need space. Sometimes Yuta’d catch Taeyong looking sideways at him instead of the road which he is supposed to be looking at but he doesn’t point it out.

“He’s my godfather, Dad...”

Yuta gags and then mutes the stupid pina collada song.

“Taeyong you selected the worst godfather of the century,” Yuta snaps and Taeyong parks the car while snorting to that. They take the elevator to the first floor of the mall, since the ground floor has all the food stops and they’re unfortunately full. If either of them caught Winwin drooling at the KFC board, they never said anything.

The elevator dings open. “So what do we do?” Yuta asks.

“Have fun on your date!” Winwin grins, pushing them to collide with each other. Yuta and Taeyong glare at him unanimously and to Winwin it’s another wave of déjà vu. _That’s their ‘parenting’ look, I’m getting closer._

“Kid you’re not going _anywhere_ after that last stunt you pulled, you’re coming with us,” and then Winwin is pulled and made to wander around the mall.

“Are you taking me shopping?” Winwin asks innocently and Yuta finds himself smiling and petting his head, “Okay! Taeyong will pay, won’t you _honey?”_

Taeyong grits his teeth and lets his annoyance wash over another fuzzy feeling in his chest at Yuta’s sarcastic and disgusting term of endearment and how he’s batting his lashes at him.

Winwin thinks he’s witnessing the most comic moment of his life.

“Sure, _darling,”_ Taeyong says with fake chivalry, reaching over to kiss Yuta’s wrist after cradling it in his hand. Yuta cringes and immediately takes it back glaring but then Taeyong can’t help but smirk at the little blush of embarrassment that spreads over his cheeks. It’s cute.

_Wait a minute._

He called Yuta cute.

Winwin whistles knowingly as Yuta drags him into the nearest store, leaving a standing Taeyong behind. _Okay, maybe kissing his hand was too much,_ he decides then his self defensiveness becomes concrete _, I was only being dramatic! He was the one who started with all the gross nicknames-whatever._

Taeyong takes a deep breath and when he turns to look at Winwin and Yuta through the glass, he’s quite relieved he’s rich enough to buy that life sized Yoda Winwin is looking with starry eyes at.

_My wallet is sweating for some reason._

 

 

 

Evening dawns and Taeyong thinks Winwin hugging the huge Yoda in his arms while grinning is the most adorable thing in the world. He finds himself looking at Yuta too, who has a different kind of look on his face as he looks proudly at Winwin—Taeyong tries finding words for it but then Yuta turns his head and that follows with a really awkward eye-contact followed by embarrassment followed by looking down and contemplating why they were looking at each other in the first place.

So far they went to the toy store (Yuta’s idea), bought Winwin some clothes of his own and got Winwin’s hair dyed since it was too flashy already. Yuta keeps Taeyong away by sandwiching Winwin between them every time. They stop in front of a mirrored pillar while Winwin fixes his new brown hair and he’s about to take his phone out when Yuta puts a hand to stop him.

“Your phone is too hi-tech you should keep it in your pocket,” Yuta deadpans and Winwin pouts at them, “But I wanted to take a selfie...”

Taeyong sighs, “Let’s buy you a phone?”

Buying a phone didn’t take much time since Winwin immediately pointed to one particular model even before he’d pushed the glass. Yuta inspected the thing and asked too many complicated questions about the phone and Taeyong thought he should only show up at the time of payment since Yuta can handle the comparison of various models part by himself. So Taeyong wanders off.

He ends up buying an iPod for no reason.

“Is this for someone?” he’s asked politely as he swipes his card.

“Ah no,” Taeyong laughs, embarrassed, but then he sees Yuta smiling at Winwin taking a selfie with the new phone a few feet away.

Taeyong signs the receipt and then he enquires, “Um...do you gift wrap this?”

 

 

 

“I’m tired,” Yuta drawls and Winwin brings his coffee to his mouth to shut him up. Taeyong takes off his cap and swipes his hair back. Yuta chokes on his drink.

“Dad, are you okay?” Winwin asks patting Yuta’s back who’s only struck with realisation and shock since he finally gets why Winwin swiping his hair back like that looked so familiar. It’s because _Taeyong_ does it too often. Thta's just another reminder that he would be stuck with Taeyong for the greater part of his already sad and disappointing life.

His heart beat is catching speeds it shouldn’t.

Winwin stops in front of a door with ornate decoration on it. “And that is...?” he asks pointing a finger towards the door. Taeyong beams, _“That,_ is my favourite place in the whole city.” Winwin pushes the door and they advance into a darkness illuminated by uplighters on the paintings.

“Oh the art galleria. Boring.” Yuta grumbles and Taeyong gives him a sour look, “Keep your opinions to yourself.”

“You were an art student,” Winwin breathes out, looking at the various paintings while Yuta tries to entertain himself by looking at the ceiling.

“Well it’s past tense for you and present for me, so yeah. I’m an art major,” Taeyong agrees. His hand goes over to pat Winwin’s shoulder and Yuta can’t help but feel left out.

“Art students are nuts because they think nudity is publicly acceptable. Can we go now?” he complains. While Taeyong turns around to roll his eyes at his lack of understanding of art, Winwin derails him from that train and asks, pointing at a painting, “Pops what is this?”

“It’s a zebra...?” Taeyong tells him and Yuta butts in, pointing to the golden plate with the artist’s name and title beneath the painting, “It’s written over there see?”

“Oh,” Winwin says, scratching the back of his neck, “I didn’t understand that...I don’t know how to read.”

“What?” Yuta and Taeyong squeak in unison.

“I know mandarin!” Winwin says, trying to calm his parents down, “But we have everything in hologram icons and touch-audio interface so I uh, don’t know Hangul characters—is that Hangul?”

Yuta rotates himself and whisper shouts at Taeyong, “I can’t believe you didn’t teach our son to read!”

The security guard peeks his head from behind a wall to judge the arguing pair. Taeyong shows him a derpy thumbs up before glaring down at Yuta with gritted teeth, “Speak for yourself.”

 _Act like you don’t hate each other,_ Yuta remembers Kun’s words ringing like the devil’s warning and he steps back, trying to erase the picture of Taeyong he’d gotten while he had unconsciously gone too close a few seconds ago.

“Wait is that an actual zebra?” Winwin says and Yuta crosses his arms, mentally thanking Providence for the kid around to kill the discomfort he felt with Taeyong, “Yeah?”

“You've never seen a zebra before?” Taeyong asks him and Winwin marvels at the painting, shaking his head, “No I haven’t. Zebras are extinct in my time. This is cool.”

“Zebras are extinct,” Yuta mumbles as if he’d just been kicked in the throat. Taeyong ignores and brightly speaks up, “You wanna see one Winwin? We could go to the zoo tomorrow if you want.”

“Zebras are extinct,” Yuta says louder this time, facing Taeyong with a ghastly expression.

“We’re going to the zoo?” Winwin warbles as he almost jumps up with delight.

Yuta begins repeatedly flinging Taeyong by the shirt, “ZEBRAS ARE EXTINCT!”

“ALRIGHT ALREADY I’M NOT DEAF!”

“And you didn’t teach him how to read. Even though he speaks Korean I’m gonna have to do some damage control,” Yuta says and as much as Taeyong is finding this annoying, he doesn’t want to break Yuta’s impassioned moment of drama.

The next second Yuta’s running to the book store.

 

 

 

Driving is impossible when Yuta and Winwin are reading children’s books and particularly Yuta reading out Dora the Explorer and telling Winwin what a tree or a bridge are in Korean is in one way cute (why do I keep calling him cute?) and in another way distracting.

Taeyong forgets to slow down before a speed breaker. _Focus Taeyong, focus._

“So Dora and Boots are going to find...?”

“The Map!” Winwin answers pointing to the words and Yuta pats his head proudly, “Good! You’re learning fast.”

It’s hard for Taeyong to keep from smiling.

 

 

 

Dinner is awkward.

Had Winwin not requested Yuta to sit at he table with them, Taeyong knew he would’ve taken every opportunity to run back home through some or the other excuse. Yuta spoke only to Winwin, picked at his food often lost in thought but Taeyong said nothing since he ate it all. Well, nothing except if Yuta wanted another helping which he flatly refused and left the table.

Taeyong guesses he’s not the kind that handles disappointment well.

Taeyong considers the risks of following him and since all possible attempts would result in further distortion in their newly woven ‘relation’, he lets him be.

“Dad...” Winwin tries to stop him but Yuta gives him a warm smile, “Later.”

The smile behind the veiled warmth, which Taeyong can see; is broken.

Taeyong is profoundly surprised Winwin hadn’t even noticed. Taeyong crosses the cutlery and leaves the table. Winwin questions no more and Taeyong is thankful for it albeit sad at how he picks up his Yoda and carries it to the guest room sadly.

Washing his face, Taeyong cannot help the anticipation for tomorrow. It’s like his senses have been heightened, he can’t help but notice more, he can’t help but feel more, he can’t control _wanting_ to feel more—he doesn’t understand what his sense of perception is making him ache for.

 _Yuta’s not forgiving me...at least not on this side of the grave,_ he thinks.

So why does the space in between them have to feel like a pull whenever they’re standing close? Why does Taeyong have to be the one who tries to knit the strings together just to get him to talk to him?

Moreover, he knows he’s doing all of this for Winwin...yet it’s not fulfilling enough.

He dries his hands and face with a towel and sees Thomas approaching. He’s getting old but Taeyong’s never seen wrinkles like this on his face.

“Which room is he sleeping in?” Taeyong asks and Thomas sighs.

“He’s taking the old room his father used to stay in,” Thomas replies and it hurts Taeyong’s heart since Yuta was so attached to his father he bothered to remember.

“I guess there’s no changing his mind,” Taeyong says to himself, smiling sadly. _I should probably give up._

“It’s nice to see he’s back...after so long,” Thomas says, driving out a small huff from Taeyong. He then shoves something that shimmers like a plastic packet at him, smirking and Taeyong jumps out of his skin, embarrassed.

 _“Thomas_ _I am not sleeping with him!”_ he whisper shouts and Thomas apologises and puts the lube and condoms back into the drawer on the opposite wall. He keeps those things hidden everywhere around the mansion in case Taeyong needs them which he does quite frequently.

“I’m sorry, you brought him home so I assumed...” Thomas starts but Taeyong repeatedly shakes his head, mouthing ‘No’ continuously and turning so red he looks like a stoplight.

Thomas sighs, “You two aren’t...together?”

“Well yes,” Taeyong says, “I mean no. Uh...it’s a bit weird...”

“Should I send him flowers from you in the morning? How about Poppies—” Thomas begins suggesting and Taeyong drags him away yelling, “That’ll be all, Thomas. Good night!” loudly over the sound of his own embarrassed rambles in his head.

 

 

 

There’s a projection of a picture on the wall when Taeyong enters his guest room that night. Winwin is in his new pyjamas, and he immediately closes the projection. Taeyong raises an eyebrow, he’s pretty sure he saw the image of a boy on it.

“Who was that?” Taeyong says as Winwin gets under the covers like a kid and leans on the huge pillows.

“That...was...my boyfriend,” he says and Taeyong almost pinches his cheeks at how cute he was when his face was flushed red. Winwin shows him his picture on his phone excitedly.

“Cute,” Taeyong comments, swiping through to see more.

“He’s the student council president,” Winwin says, the hint of pride not going unnoticed. Taeyong smiles at the smitten grin, “I see...”

“He’s a great chef too. I think he’s better than you are,” Winwin rambles enthusiastically and Taeyong sits on the bed, “Is he?”

Winwin nods, “He also lived in America for four years.” That makes Taeyong laugh from all the adorable-vibes Winwin is ensuing. It’s heartwarming- he likes having a kid. A part of him feels like he would enjoy the adventure of raising Winwin up.

Taeyong asks him, “You like him a lot, don’t you kid?”

He nods in response and closes his eyes. Taeyong guesses he should let him sleep and reaches over to pull the lamp off but Winwin mumbles something that has him falter.

“Papa...why don’t you like Dad?”

He doesn’t need to know the pathetic answer. Taeyong doesn’t know what part of his memories should he tell him—how there was a really smart kid with a ridiculous Beatles hair cut in his grade school who always snatched the top place in his class and never once turned to look at anyone else because he was _the_ Nakamoto Yuta—how he was everything Taeyong couldn’t reach, how Taeyong had hated him since he was a kid because their fathers were founders of the same company and his own dad seemed to like him more than he did him—how they’d only bicker like children at first; not realising that it would get so _so_ worse.

What will Winwin think of him, if he tells him that he’s so flawed, neck deep in jealousy that he left painful hits on Yuta that don’t let him sleep at night?

But Winwin is looking at him with glistening eyes-he wants an answer, an honest answer. So that is what Taeyong decides to give him.

“Well...” Taeyong starts making Winwin tap the spot on the bed he was previously sitting on and he reclaims the spot. It’s only fair he knows how pathetic I am.

“It's because he's smart,” Taeyong tells him. It’s not the whole story, but he could put it like that without saying much. Winwin’s expression doesn’t waver from the stoical.

“He's smart?”

“He's-he was always better at everything okay? I’ve never been—I could never match up to him. I’ve always wanted to be where he is but I guess I couldn't instead of a calculating mind I was born with a haywire imagination. And what sucks is that I can't do anything about it.”

“That explains the art. You dropped engineering classes,” Winwin says as if he knows and Taeyong is not surprised that he does, he’s from the future after all.

Taeyong answers subtly and dismayed, “It's the only thing that makes me feel worth something.”

“Papa...” Winwin starts but Taeyong stops him, “Don’t think too much okay? Sleep tight.” The door shuts firmly. The lights are gone.

Yuta pokes his head out from between the two curtains and Winwin’s hand hits his chest with a thud.

“DAD WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Yuta advances and does a nose dive into the bed, _“Language_. And relax, I was just checking on you.” Yuta looks around the dark room and then shimmies whilst looking out of the window admiring the nice garden outside and Winwin grumbles, “You taught me all the slangs I know Dad...and I’m not gonna run away.”

“But you did,” Yuta sits up, “Why did you?”

“I don’t—I never could’ve imagined this. You two fighting, at each other’s throats I...you’re my parents, you love each other.”

Yuta shakes his head, “Not in this universe.” If he only had the same force to actually change the future...

“Every time you say that makes me think of the times you two snog shamelessly in front of me,” Winwin says sternly and all the fuel in Yuta’s brain no longer works because he just imagined himself making out with Taeyong and that jammed a lot of systems.

Yuta’s mind is running in a different lane.

_What if I could change the future? I could purposely not marry Taeyong it’s not like it’s meant to happen._

“I’m not gonna give up,” the kid tells him with fire, “you’re meant to be.”

 _Oh right,_ Yuta remembers.

_If I don’t; then I won’t have a child._

Yuta doesn’t know he can stand the idea of not having a kid like Winwin, who was this adorable and fit so well with him and Taeyong, like he’d been with them their entire life but then again, Yuta isn’t the best parent.

He doesn’t trust himself with someone else’s upbringing.

As much as he wants to have kids later, he knows he isn’t the right person to have any. Although there is relief that Winwin is a perfect child, from how happy he looks while hanging out with them—Yuta isn’t sure it was him who would’ve brought Winwin up that well.

His fists clench.

_I’m sorry, Winwin._

Yet he covers it up, snorting at him, “Jeez what have you been watching, _The Notebook?”_ Winwin looks confused, “What is that?”

_Oh right. New generation kids._

“Forget it,” Yuta shakes it off, proceeding to whistle casually as if he hadn’t just made a life changing decision for Winwin, “I heard something about a boyfriend...hm?”

“You were eavesdropping,” Winwin accuses, sounding fake-annoyed.

“Isn’t that a parent’s child protection program thing? And I hope you two haven’t done anything...” Yuta points at his middle finger to show exactly what he was implying.

 _“Dad!”_ Winwin yells and then presses a button on his phone to project the picture. Yuta gawks at Winwin’s boyfriend in the same way Kun looked at Winwin when he first arrived.

Winwin cringes, thinking _this is weird. I should probably not tell him Jaehyun is Uncle Kun’s son or he’ll be disgusted with himself to his death._

Yuta drools at the slideshow, fanning his face so aggressively as Winwin shows him pictures of his raven haired boyfriend that he forgets to ask his name, “Dang he’s hot.”

Winwin gives him a shit eating grin at that and Yuta is mildly complaining because it’s not fair hot boys exist so late in the future. The district worships Taeyong as the most good looking but Yuta thinks that isn’t so. Besides, Taeyong has enough stamina to flirt with the entire district to make them think that way. Charmer.

“I met him when he was in the choir,” Winwin says and Yuta can see him jump with excitement to tell his love story.

“Hmm, they were never guys this cute in my school choir. Plus the whole purple robes and bird voices are not my type,” Yuta tells him honestly and smiles at Winwin before ruffling his hair.

“Then what is your type, dad?” Winwin asks, his eyelids going droopy. Yuta answers before wishing him good night.

“Rappers.”

 


	6. Chapter 6

As dramatic as all things in Yuta’s life have always been regarding people, he’s astonished he still hasn’t developed a fortification around him to stop people’s problematic feelings from reaching him yet. Which is why Taeyong’s sad voice cuts ridges into him.

_“It’s the only thing that makes me feel worth something.”_

And the ridges turn into deepening gullies. It's not like Yuta hadn't been there at every step reminding Taeyong of what he couldn't be. Yuta shifts uncomfortably on the plump bed, his mind keeps revisiting everything Taeyong had just spilled to Winwin—he hadn’t meant to overhear, thought it would be fun to scare Winwin from behind the curtains but he hears Taeyong’s voice over and over again each time, it’s making his heart thud louder.

From then on, Yuta can’t sleep.

He sits up, wonders how had he not noticed Taeyong having an inferiority complex of this sort because he had thought the dipshit needed nothing since he’s always had it all—fame, money and above all acceptance.

Yuta had never bothered to see beyond the Taeyong who was mostly halfway around the world, busy in expos and galas, who drank too much, who had an evergreen appetite for sex besides being famous for sleeping around, who was annoying, who only communicated with him through punches and kicks—Yuta thinks he shouldn’t bother to see beyond that image either.

Yuta isn’t responsible for Taeyong’s low self esteem. It’s neither his job to go and tell him words of comfort to cheer him up nor does he want to do that.

He sinks back into the bed, closing his eyes.

Yuta’s fingers grab at his chest and grip over the skin he could catch, feeling the rapid beat of his heart through his palm.

 _It hurts here,_ Yuta thinks forcing his eyes shut. It shouldn’t hurt for Taeyong.

_He doesn’t deserve it._

A noise of the door creaking open makes Yuta throw a pillow at the nightly trespasser.

“I just came to check on you don’t go all ninja on me,” Taeyong says, catching the pillow and hauling it back to the bed.

“Go away,” Yuta groans, but Taeyong doesn’t because it sounds less mean than the tone Yuta usually uses.

“Look, Yuta I have to say something and then you can kick my ass as many times as you want,” Taeyong mutters, moving closer to sit on the bed and Yuta’s body is recoiling into a foetal posture just to inch away from Taeyong. “If we’re gonna do this—”

“We’re not,” Yuta intercepts midway. Taeyong looks shaken but he doesn’t say anything, letting Yuta continue.

Yuta acknowledged the gesture but Taeyong shouldn’t be like this. Taeyong likes snarkily replying to every mean thing Yuta says to him and this is different.

He isn’t supposed to listen, he isn’t supposed to be patient.

Taeyong isn’t supposed to be all calm with the fact they’re married, because it makes Yuta think that he wants this.

And that makes Yuta afraid.

“We’re _not_ gonna get married Taeyong,” he says, “We’re still in the past and we _can_ change the future...think about it.”

“He said it won’t change a thing,” Taeyong asks him, eyes piercing.

“He could be lying y’know...just to make sure we end up together,” Yuta says, his back on the enormous pillows and eyes up at the ceiling, “Or he’s probably cupid who’s come to troll us.”

“Yuta—”

“Okay it’s cute he calls me dad but we have no concrete evidence of him being from the future. You’re the only one who’s taking it too seriously!”

“You aren’t believing him.”

 _“Do I have to?_ I never wanted children, I never wanted you and I sure as hell don’t want a forecast of all the shit that’s gonna happening to me!”

Yuta doesn’t realise he’d shouted at Taeyong until he notices his black eyes shimmer with the edges watering which he shuts to prevent Yuta from looking into them more. His heart stops, there’s white noise searing pain into his ears.

“Fine,” Taeyong says, getting up angrily and slamming a tiny gift wrapped box under the lamp on Yuta’s bedside, “It’s only a few days before he’ll eventually have to go—I just came to tell you that if we’re gonna have to do this for _I don’t know how long_ —you’re gonna explain every bit of us to him. He deserves to know because the future us have done a great job at hiding our toxic history from him.”

Yuta lets his head hang low, he’s right but he can’t look at Taeyong. Yuta hears him go to the door, clicking it open but when he does look at him he regrets it.

Taeyong is looking at him with the same bitter front that he’s grown so used to.

“Don’t think you’re the only one suffering, I never wanted you either,” Taeyong says and shuts the door, leaving Yuta in the darkness that was becoming familiar in perpetuity.

His heart shouldn’t hurt because of Taeyong.

_But it still does._

 

 

 

Yuta’s not surprised when the moment he steps out of Taeyong’s manor coincides with Taeyong’s rich-ass-car-I-don’t-know-the-name-of-but-it’s-rich arriving before the porch and it’s a new one.

It’s a hot pink car.

“Excellent choice for today,” Thomas remarks and Taeyong grins proudly before realising Winwin was still inside the mansion so he runs in screaming, “Winwin!”

The crazy good looking butler hands Yuta a jacket and it startles him. “Thanks Thomas,” he tells him, eyes conveying gratitude.

“You’ll be needing this,” Thomas tells him and then drifts off topic like all doting butlers do, “he seems livelier now. It’s surprising he came home almost smiling yesterday.”

Yuta doesn’t have to think twice to know it’s Taeyong he’s talking about. Yuta gives out a small smile, he finds himself going back to last night and how he feels he’s said too many words like knives to Taeyong, that he can’t retrieve.

On top of that, Taeyong had apologized—like a decent human being...but Yuta hadn’t.

_I don’t like Taeyong but he doesn’t have to take the blame._

“What do you mean?” he asks before he can stop himself from doing so.

Thomas sighs and that look of serenity on the quaint old man’s face ripples for the first time to surface worry.

“He often comes home sad. Refuses to talk about it. Goes over to drink the moment he steps in and some days he looks beaten up from a bad fight.”

 _That’s me,_ Yuta regrets. _I guess I shouldn’t have asked._ Thomas continues, “Yesterday he came home smiling and he didn’t even touch the cabinet. So thank you master—”

“Please, call me Yuta,” Yuta says and his mind hopes to speak something else.

_Don’t thank me, I broke Taeyong. I don’t do anything except give shit to people._

“Yuta can I talk to you for a sec?” he hears Taeyong and it makes him snap his head to the side. His brows crease, “Okay...talk.”

“I mean here,” Taeyong says gesturing Yuta to come to where he’s standing inside.

“Nope, you’re gonna make me walk double,” Yuta grumbles and Taeyong groans before advancing outside. Yuta’s eyes do not widen, as he’s telling himself. His eyes definitely do not stare at Taeyong’s silver hair with the colour brought out by the morning sun and his red thick framed sunglasses accentuating his face.

“Will that be all?” Thomas asks politely and before Yuta can thank him one more time Taeyong hastily shoos him away in favour of privacy.

“Don’t flirt with my butler,” he says crossing his arms and biting his lips to show how serious he is.

“I am not flirting him, okay? Jeez he’s fifty,” Yuta counters and yet Taeyong holds his accusatory stare.

“I don’t know you could be into the old type. How do I guess you’re not trying to make a move on him or something.”

Yuta presses his lips into a line, raises an eyebrow and glares pointedly at Taeyong, “Fuck you.”

“Thomas is actually forty eight if you’re still interested I mean if—”

“Taeyong, were you jealous?”

Yuta expects Taeyong to be crass as usual brush it off by getting annoyed like he does but the words mute him. They stare at each other for what seems like a loophole they can’t get out of. Yuta doesn’t know why he asked that when he doesn’t care about Taeyong enough to want to know if he got jealous—that question was impulsive.

“Yes,” Taeyong says and the moment the words register in Yuta’s head, they take away all the breath left in him.

Taeyong meets his eyes again this time firmer and Yuta’s dying to look away but he’s shackled by the big black eyes staring at him through red glasses, “Yes, I was.”

Winwin comes running out goofily apologising about how he couldn’t hold his pee and Taeyong breaks the moment, goes to hop in the ridiculous hot pink car after pushing the keys in.

_He was jealous?_

While Yuta is thinking of all the reasons why he could be, like a good scientist fathoms all possibilities to get a whole picture. It still makes no sense.

_Unless..._

“Dad! Don’t zone out!” Winwin says and Taeyong simultaneously rolls his eyes and starts the car just to aggravate Yuta making him think they’re leaving without him.

“I hate you,” he says through his teeth and gets in.

_Nah. He probably just likes attention._

 

 

 

“I thought this was a wildlife sanctuary,” Taeyong judges as they’re driven in amidst peaceful animals such as pretty deer and giraffes who probably thought humans were mosquito sized from that height. Winwin excitedly clicks pictures and Yuta hides his face from the scorching heat.

“It _is_ you idiot. What makes you think it’s not?” Yuta asks him and picks up the flyer they’d got on getting in, “See? Wa-ild-la-ife-sanc-tu-a-ry.”

“Thanks Yuta but I can read,” Taeyong mutters under his breath but Yuta heard him enough to glare without Winwin paying attention to them.

“I just—thought all animals were freely roaming but there’s boundaries over there,” Taeyong points out and Yuta squints his eyes in the heat. _God, it feels like Sahara_.

“Probably to prevent crazy animals from running away or worse—eating each other.”

“Yuta they _have to_ eat other animals.”

“This why I didn’t take biology.”

“Awesome,” Winwin comments and the kid looks like he’s having the time of his life. Yuta guesses if he would actually be in a park full of extinct animals he would’ve been pretty excited too but on second thought it’s a good thing he isn’t because Jurassic park’s covered enough of that.

“What’re those?” Winwin says as they pass a herd of hippos.

“Hippopotamus,” Taeyong answers, “it sounds like a dinosaur but trust me it isn’t.”

“It’s a very fat dinosaur,” Yuta adds uselessly, nodding.

“This is so cool can I ride one?” Winwin asks and Taeyong and Yuta look at him incredulously.

Winwin hears a _no_ from Yuta and a _yes_ from Taeyong at the same time and then he grins as the former glares while the latter smiles smugly.

He knows how it goes from here.

 

 

 

“Lee Taeyong, sure you've heard the name,” Taeyong says wiggling his eyebrows and the zookeeper (or whatever because he’s dressed like the Nova Corps) on duty looks unimpressed.

“Yeah. I have kid,” he says leaning back to get a good intimidating angle at the kid with the atrocious request but he can’t because he’s pitiably shorter than the handsome kid, “Rich spoilt brat. Lee Enterprises.”

“Good,” Taeyong says grinning and his eyes crinkle, sheathed by red sunglasses as he swipes his hair up. _That cowlick though,_ Yuta thinks observing him from the sidelines with Winwin. Taeyong proceeds to reach for his wallet.

“Does he actually think money solves everything?” Yuta whispers to himself and Winwin tsks while Yuta’s face falls on his palm.

The zookeeper eyes Taeyong with indignation, “But I can't let you ride a hippo. You don't buy a privilege like that.”

Taeyong holds up his index finger and then turns back to where Winwin was standing. ‘ _He said no’_ he mouths and Winwin mouths back with _‘ZEBRAS?’_

“Okay...how about a zebra?” Taeyong asks, letting his 10 terawatt teeth shine.

“No zebras,” the zookeeper says and sighs. Taeyong won’t blame him, anyone would look done if someone asks them permission to ride a wild animal.

“Oh come on! How much would it take for one ride!”

“Look kid, you can’t just flash your sunglasses at me and think you can do whatever you want. This isn’t a circus and that don’t work on me. The zebras can't be ridden. Rights are rights,” he tells Taeyong seriously.

“And rides are rides,” Taeyong tells him, persistent.

“That makes no fucking sense,” the zookeeper says before going away muttering something like ‘they’re all Kardashians’ and another zookeeper takes his place and gives Taeyong an apologetic smile, “We're sorry.”

And this is how Taeyong returns back looking paltry and pouting. Yuta crosses his arms, “Useless.”

Taeyong smirks at him, “I’ve broken into the lock systems it’s gonna be undone in a about ten seconds and we will ride the zebras. Who’re you calling useless again?”

"I’m totally going to ignore what that sounds like and you _can't_ do that without a distraction anyway, _useless,"_ Yuta bites back and Taeyong crosses hands over his chest in mock offense. Yuta’s brows crease, he doesn’t really trust Taeyong with cracking the locks because a) IT IS FUCKING ILLEGAL and also because Taeyong is a vintage billionaire playboy bully and a digerati fits _nowhere_ in that series.

Taeyong looks at Yuta inquisitively once he sees something in his eyes sparkle. Yuta grins as the lightbulb in his head keeps glowing brighter, “Remember when we got arrested for breaking the mall window?

Taeyong’s jaw drops to the ground, “Yuta we are _not_ doing the guardians of the galaxy dance off thing again I swear—”

“You’re right,” Yuta hums and Winwin is too busy clicking pictures to pay heed.

“But your opinion means jack shit to me. I’m gonna level up.”

Taeyong sighs as he watches Yuta go over to the railing beyond which were primates. They were thirteen when they’d broken the mall window, kept under supervision for a while until their parents were fetched and Taeyong remembers Yuta was close to breaking into tears from desperation because he guesses there were certain issues regarding his dad so he didn’t have much time to stop Yuta from jumping before the guard and doing body rolls that inducted public shame. But the point is—it got the job done. They had escaped. Taeyong is quite sure there’s no stopping him this time either.

_I should’ve known._

And Yuta lounges himself on the railing. So much for overdramatic. Taeyong pulls Winwin, “Here’s our cue, come on.”

The zookeepers flock around Yuta, trying to get him off the mesh, “Sir, please get down!”

“Shhh I think the monkeys are trying to tell me something...” Yuta whispers and the guards look baffled enough to ignore the door to the where the zebras stayed opening.

Taeyong ushers Winwin in and unsuspectingly tip toes towards a tree at angle which only the zebras could see them.

“Pops what’re you gonna do?” Winwin asks, looking really worried and peeping between the little gaps to make sure Yuta’s okay.

“Call them of course,” Taeyong says before whistling towards the herd of zebras which come running towards him which freaks Winwin out in a millisecond.

“Hop on,” Taeyong implores and helps Winwin on the zebra who is still confused as to how did his father manage to manoeuvre the zebras into agreeing to getting rode.

“Pops how did you—” Winwin starts but Taeyong pulls the ears of the zebra and it takes out a garbled sound between a neigh and a bray.

“This one’s nice; I’m calling him Sam,” Taeyong says smiling and the zebra does a back kick and then speeds forward as Taeyong commands it, “RUN SAM!”

"You know the Pops I know wouldn't have ever done anything like this," Winwin shots as they let the zebra run in full speed through the dusty herd and he turns back to look at the multitude of zebras following them. It’s like marching for war except with zebra-soldiers. It’s picturesque, Winwin loves it.

Taeyong laughs, "This is why I don't wanna grow up."

It gallops past the trees and Winwin is quite sure they’re pretty far onto the edge of the area when it strikes him, “What about Dad, Pops?”

Taeyong freezes for a moment and then chokes, not wanting to distract himself from directing the zebra— _Sam,_ “He’ll be fine don’t worry.”

“But he was—”

“WAIT YOU FUCKTARD AND WINWIN! WAIT!” they hear Yuta scream as he runs behind them, with all the air knocked out of him. Yuta’s throat burns from all the dust he’s probably inhaled through his mouth and Taeyong tells Sam to stop so that Yuta can sit behind Winwin.

“Are you okay?” Taeyong squeaks and Yuta falls on Winwin’s back, devoid of all energy, “I guess...? What the fuck did I just do?”

“Oh a bunch of fun stuff. You’re riding a zebra if you’re not in the right senses right now, this is epic,” Taeyong says and lets Sam run along with this friends.

Winwin begins tapping vigorously on Taeyong’s shoulder while Yuta groans with obvious vertigo, “Dad, Pops you're gonna have to get off right now...”

“Why?” Taeyong says, eyebrow pinned up and turning behind but Winwin points forward as Yuta lifts his forehead from the kid’s shoulder distractedly.

“Because these zebras are running into the river on the count of three...”

Let’s just say, trying to get off of a zebra while it’s for one thing, _running_ and the second, when _his whole clan is running_ implies you’re trying to find your way out alive in a zebra stampede. Winwin’s flexibility gets both Taeyong and Yuta off the zebra, but the fleeing part is what he does all by himself, screaming like a choked hen and deserting the other two behind which leaves Taeyong with no option but to drag Yuta by the hand to the nearest place where there are hopefully no running animals in an inconspicuous attempt to pummel them to death.

Yuta clings onto Taeyong which makes Taeyong even more sweaty since he so does not want to ruin this by getting Yuta hurt and he feels at fault because the poor guy’s already looking green.

 _Don’t throw up on my sweatshirt please,_ he thinks, once Yuta jerks forward just when Taeyong is setting him against a tree. Yuta looks knocked out, his head is churning and his vision fuzzy.

“Hey,” Taeyong says, slapping him on the face, “you alive?”

“Ngghhh...”

“I don’t know what language that is but if you don’t get up I’m gonna feed your ass to the lions,” Taeyong says, proceeding to pull Yuta’s fried hair by the strands, one at a time.

“…I hate you…” Yuta manages to speak and Winwin runs a palm over Yuta’s forehead.

“He’s back,” Taeyong says, pleased and more to himself, “Okay...Winwin do I smell like zebras?”

Winwin dutifully goes to sniff him and there’s a voice in Yuta’s head that sounds like Johnny saying ‘ _crazy’._

“We’ve done countless illegal things in fifteen minutes and you’re worried about smelling like a zebra?” Yuta says and his ears pick up some shouting in the distance.

“Alright, Yuta’s got his brains rebooted. We need to get out of here,” Taeyong announces, “think of a strategy. Strategy strategy—”

“Saying ‘strategy’ is not gonna make it drop from the sky; my best friend is the senator’s son. I got this,” Yuta interrupts and Winwin helps him stand up. His eyes hurt but at least his head isn’t swirling and dysfunctional.

“I’m a billionaire I got this,” Taeyong says which earns him a glare from Winwin too this time.

“Your dad is a billionaire you idiot. Throw your SIM cards before we’re tracked,” Yuta says before he feels a headache hit him. Taeyong jumps anxiously.

“I think I should call Thomas.”

“Calling Kun is a better idea.”

“Okay, maybe later. We can’t possibly go back there,” Winwin says and Yuta tightens his grip around Winwin for leverage, “The sanctuary extends into the forest so we might find a boundary we could jump over...”

Taeyong looks at them, utterly stupefied, “Are you suggesting that we walk that distance?”

“Duh. What, your royal legs haven’t walked before? Let’s go Winwin,” Yuta says and hisses, “Useless” as he walks past Taeyong into some random direction as if he knew the nooks of the sanctuary already with Winwin following blindly.

“Oh shut up Nakamoto.”

 

 

 

It’s pretty hilariously guessable...that they get lost.

The sun sets, and funny enough no one even bothers to find them. Taeyong regrets instructing Thomas to not look for him on Wednesdays because Wednesdays are painting days and he assured him he’d be fine in the studio all by himself. Stupidity. Yuta, secure in his intelligence is walking and walking, the air is chilly and is doing wonders for his headache. Somewhere an owl hoots and they stop by a little brook.

“Give me your jacket,” Taeyong tells Yuta sternly.

“Why?”

“I’m gonna catch some fish.”

“With my jacket?”

“You wanna die hungry then fine, don’t give it,” he says and Yuta hands him the jacket with a sour expression. He sits over a huge stone and shivers witht he loss of warmth, watching Winwin poke twigs in the shallow water to entertain himself.

Yuta can’t help but notice Taeyong go over to where the brook thickens and slap his jacket in the water which looked like he was washing clothes than a decent fish catching procedure.

“Oh God,” Yuta says and falls back as if he’s having a seizure. Winwin curiously looks up at him.

“I’m gonna be marrying an idiot.”

 

 

 

Yuta purposely holds the phone a good distance away from his ear once he calls Kun just to make sure of the longevity of the life of his ear drums. Fortunately, Kun isn’t shouting, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t pissy. Taeyong is still ‘fishing’ and Winwin by the time, has resorted to pursuing fireflies that are beautifully gathering around him but Yuta, with no time to stop and click pictures can only listen to Kun chiding him whilst seated cross legged on the rock.

“I am not sending a rescue party,” Kun says, warningly and Yuta knows he means it. “and I am not coming to your funeral either.”

“I understand,” Yuta says even though he wants to say something similar to Kun but he’s got to make sure that he cooperates.

“Why do I have to cover up for your stupidity? Last time you blew the university lab, got drunk before a seminar and now this? This is insane!”

“I’m sorry okay! You gotta help me out. Winwin is here too if I screw up it screws up the future. Please Kun,” Yuta pleads into the phone and he hears Kun go silent in contemplation.

“I’ll take care of your little stunt and fuck Dad’s gonna kill me...just walk with a stick and don’t look up at the trees and don’t die okay?”

“Wait—why can’t I look up?”

“Unless you want to see a leopard sitting on the tree, freak out and eventually get yourself eaten, sure! Look up!”

Something rustles and all three faces go pale white as a pair of eyes shine in the darkness right behind Taeyong. Birds fly out of the trees with loud flaps of wings and all cicadas quieten. Yuta almost drops his phone.

“Bad timing Kun,” Yuta says as he gets on his feet and watches the glowing eyes creeping nearer to Taeyong who’s already backing up with one step into the brook, _“really bad timing.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~ZEBRAS~~  
>  thank you for all the love and support for this fic it motivates me even more to write and is wonderful! thank you readers!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taeyong, Yuta and Winwin get lost in the wildlife sanctuary after deciding to go for a zebra ride braving all odds. However, Taeyong’s almost-pet zebra finds them, and even lets them move to the boundary of the sanctuary providing them with an escape route. In a desperate need for a place to stay the night, Yuta and Taeyong end up in a mansion they find-but the mansion ends up being the place where Taeyong’s joint family is holding a get-together to which Kun happens to have brought Doyoung as a date to.  
> What Yuta doesn’t realise, is that once he’s in the mansion, he’s not gonna get out easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for confusing everyone ~~well this is what happens when i don’t proofread the fic even once~~ :(  
>  here’s the revamped chapter that’s hopefully a bit clearer than the last (the details about yuta’s family and all that drama will be told eventually ;)

Whatever was approaching towards Taeyong, hilariously turned out to be the zebra they had rid on.

Yuta gawks, “Unbelievable.”

"Sam! It's you!" is what Taeyong exclaims, leaping into the darkness and at the creature that was approaching him. It's incredulous, everything so far has been absurd and bizarre, which leads to Yuta dropping the stone he had just picked up to shield Taeyong with, donning the most appalled face of the century.

"Sam?" barely passes Yuta's lips before Taeyong walks with the zebra into the beam of moonlight making him and Winwin see that it was in fact the zebra not a carnivorous ferocity in search for man meat.

Winwin lets out a relieved laugh, "I think we should use it to get out of here?”

"Good thinking," Taeyong replies with his hand reaching to pet the animal who's already trying to lick Taeyong's face, "Good boy, I knew you'd find me."

"You speak zebra?" Yuta croaks and he's ignored as Winwin and Taeyong hastily mount the zebra who's for some reason also judging him.

The forest is dead silent, they see nothing but the trees and of course, it is very frightening. The moon is high up in the sky and all Yuta wants to do is get out of there.

"Dad! Come on!" Winwin says and Yuta's not in favor of getting another ride into vertigo. The previous experience had not been great, Yuta knows he might puke his guts out if he sits on the stupid zebra again for even a minute. Besides, it seems like getting a favour from Taeyong and he hates Taeyong enough to not want favors from him.

"No thanks I'll walk," Yuta says with sassy determination and it makes Taeyong roll his eyes.

"Fine, whatever floats your boat," he replies and the zebra trots forward leaving Yuta behind to walk alone. Yuta huffs and picks up a stick to ward off any threatening snakes but then he hears a distinct sound that scares him out of his wits.

A tiger had just roared in the near distance loudly, his voice bringing deathly silence in the jungle.

"OKAY HOLY FUCK I DON'T WANNA DIE GET ME OUT!" Yuta babbles, jumping hilariously behind Winwin on the zebra and clinging on tight, "MAKE THIS ANIMAL MOVE!"

Taeyong smirks. _I knew it._

The zebra takes them on a long ride through the forest, passing between dense trees glistening under the moonlight. Taeyong was focused on directing the zebra so that they keep going in a single direction and it’s ridiculous—Yuta couldn’t have imagined even in his wildest dreams that he would be stuck in a forest with Taeyong of all people.

So the last two days have been terrific, Yuta summarizes. His son from the future drops from the sky with ‘surprise bitch’ as subtext and then he finds out that in the future, he’s married to Taeyong, his number one nemesis since they were fetuses. And somehow, he’s now in a forest, riding a fucking zebra and hoping not to get eaten by a big cat.

Talk about insanity.

Winwin doesn’t speak much, which is evident from the amount of lines he’s gotten in this fic. He’s actually terrified of both his parents, they love him, past and future versions alike but they are also strict and incredibly panicky.

“I feel so primitive with the zebra-transportation,” Yuta comments lewdly, just for the sake of speaking out loud to distract himself from the disgusting feeling of the animal’s ribs rubbing along the inside of his thighs.

“Just think about how Winwin is feeling if you’re like that,” Taeyong says, before turning behind and asking him, “What sort of vehicles do you have in your age, Winwin?”

“Jet-packs and turbo-hoverboards are for fun but we walk mostly,” Winwin replies attention still fixated on the beautiful dark forest around them, “Also repulsor gauntlets are the best.”

“Cool,” Taeyong remarks and the zebra goes faster into the tunnel formed by the collapse of two stones and hidden by ivy.

“Take me to your time I don’t wanna ride this stupid zebra...” Yuta says, trying to exhale as much as he could to subdue the repugnant feeling of his vomit coming.

“His name is Sam,” Taeyong chides and the zebra neighs and does the Hippotigris equivalent of twerking which just results in Yuta getting kicked in the air and feeling even worse.

_Great, now even zebras hate me._

The zebra trots lightly through the forest, Yuta can feel the suspicious eyes of owls peering just like the eyes in the Scooby Doo openings and shiver after shiver crawls down his spine.

“Can’t you make this thing hurry up?” Yuta whisper-shouts, scooting closer to Winwin with his teeth chattering from the forest breeze. He doesn’t expect Taeyong to take off his sweatshirt immediately and throw it at him, let alone notice that he might be cold. He doesn’t want to say thank you but he’s quite grateful to him for giving him the sweatshirt.

The scent of the sweatshirt is calming, Yuta doesn’t know what cologne Taeyong wears but it’s intoxicating and strong against the tropical odour of the forest. “Your jacket rests with fishes,” Taeyong says and Yuta doesn’t hear it, tugging the ‘TY TRACK’ sweatshirt even closer to himself, trying to sniff as much as possible of the cologne.

Soon enough, they reach a wall which is broken partly to let them out through a narrow hole in it. They jump off the zebra and Yuta takes a dozen thankful sighs.

Now I can go home, he thinks. Finally.

But fortune decides against him, like every time. Once all three are out of the boundary, they are still lost since they’re too far from the city and are standing at the edge of a huge wheat field, with no nearby traces of habitation. All in all, they have to get home even though the zoo authorities definitely left them for dead with a bunch of wild animals. Sucky people.

“But what about Sam?” Taeyong says, inserting his hand in the hole in the wall to pet the zebra. No need to point Winwin out since he keeps clicking pictures.

“You wanna take the zebra with you? Are you nuts?” Yuta yells and Taeyong makes a stubborn face before complying eventually.

“Fine. Bye Sam,” he says, sounding dramatically sad but there might’ve been a real bond between them, because the horse fucking jumps over the boundary to the immense fascination of Winwin and to the horror of Yuta.

The zebra loves Taeyong so much it jumped over the wall for him. The shortest love story ever.

 _I give up on the world,_ Yuta thinks.

Taeyong cackles and mounts, cuddling the zebra and muttering his ‘coochie coo’s while Yuta feels another headache coming, trying to understand how the zebra defied physics and leaped. “H-How did—” Yuta starts but Taeyong snaps his fingers before his eyes.

“Well, you wanna go or not?”

 

 

 

In all honesty, Yuta had never expected himself to be contemplating his life’s worst decisions (in this case, decisions he hasn’t even taken yet) while riding through a wheat field in midnight and feeling like the sky is gonna drop on him any minute. Suddenly he understands chicken licken.

The trio have been wandering around in circles for half an hour and Yuta is desperate for sleep. Winwin yawns wide and sonorously and Taeyong lights up the way using his cell phone flashlight, Yuta figures it might be one of his party animal traits to be able to function at obscene hours at night. Or vampire. Vampire seems more appropriate.

Somewhere in the distance, they see a house. There’s only a single large mansion, surrounded by trees and standing in the loneliness.

To Yuta, it’s a miracle; he can finally rest after the antics of today.

Yuta figures he is surely not gonna get home so he better become goldilocks for one night (since he was extremely tired) besides, he’s sure no one would mind if he uses their bed for a good sleep, wouldn’t they? So he frantically begins to yell, “Taeyong make the damn zebra go over there!”

“His name is Sam,” Taeyong corrects again with a warning tone and Yuta scrunches his nose immaturely, “Whatever!”

Winwin happens to be the most practical of the three, “Wouldn’t we be trespassing...” But right now, Yuta couldn’t care less about trespassing. All he wants—is to sleep.

“I don’t think we should...what if someone’s at home right now?” Taeyong voices out and he squints his eyes as they traverse closer.

“Wait, I know this place.”

“You do?” Yuta asks.

“Yeah. We use this mansion for parties sometimes. I know it quite well,” Taeyong replies with a hint of uncertainty in his voice.

“That’s even _better_ so can you shut up and make _Sam_ go over there?” Yuta says, minutes away from letting the nausea get the better of him.

“We’re not gonna get in, Yuta. That mansion has no gates,” Taeyong says firmly and he tries to reason out since, they’ve already thrown their SIM cards and he cannot call anyone to fetch them. The mansion is old, used often for an occasion unwished to be highlighted by the media, hence its location on outskirts of town. People get in via helipad which was why there was no gate.

“Taeyong it’s _midnight_ and I am _not sleeping_ in a snake-jammed wheat field,” Yuta whines and it stirs something in Taeyong now that Yuta’s used his name.

“Still a bad idea,” Taeyong says to which Yuta deliriously begins to spit ‘fuck you’s at everything, even the poor animal who’d been labouring hard to carry the weight of three people—a job it wasn’t born for.

“Save some respect for the zebra, it’s gonna be extinct in a few years,” Taeyong says and Yuta almost loses it since he shouldn’t be in a position to joke when Yuta’s so squeamish he could kick his own head.

 _“Taeyong I swear_ _—_ _”_ Yuta starts but he’s too nauseous to finish his death threat properly.

“Dad are you alright?” Winwin exclaims, trying to get Yuta’s back up straight.

Yuta’s not alright, so he replies truthfully, “I think I’m gonna pass out...”

Taeyong stiffens at that and makes Sam run as fast as possible to reach the back of the mansion and dismounting before the other two. He helps Winwin down but it gets awkward when he moves to help Yuta who ignores and jumps off from the other side. _So much for being chivalrous._ Taeyong scoffs internally, it’s no use being nice to people who don’t appreciate it.

“I told you there’s no entrance,” Taeyong says, one hand petting the zebra as the three inspect the place, trying to figure out a way to enter.

Winwin pipes up, “There’s a tree! Over there!”

“Are we gonna act like thieves now?” Taeyong says, not sure how much penalty he can avoid after one more illegal action of the day.

“Consider this grand theft auto without the auto,” Yuta replies and follows Winwin up the enormous tree.

Future son. Married to an asshole. Rode a zebra. Breaking into a house by climbing a tree—Yuta’s life has never been more ridiculous.

Winwin is flexible and athletic, he makes sure Taeyong and Yuta get to a branch that’s closest to the roof of the mansion which is thankfully flat and not inclined. The place is blaring with music though no one seems to be outside, at least they hope no is, on their side of the mansion.

Taeyong thinks it’s pretty adequate to get in without getting caught.

With a swift jump Winwin flings himself on the roof and extends his hand to Taeyong who’s tentatively looking down below at the drop he could fall.

It definitely a forty or thirty feet drop from the branch.

Fortunately, there’s a pool in the balcony below them but it’s not a standard shape, with curves and irregularities so if he falls, it might not end prettily on hitting the marble in place of water.

“Hurry up you gorgon,” Yuta hisses from behind him and Taeyong grabs Winwin’s hand and leaps over air and safely over to the roof, panting with relief.

“That wasn’t so difficult,” he comments and Winwin reaches forward to Yuta, “Come on Dad, you can do it.”

Yuta, sure in himself, does jump but he falters midway, with one leg hanging in the air while Winwin, panicky, tries to pull him up with all his force. His face is pale and Taeyong looks aghast since he’s looking at the enormous distance between Yuta and the pool or the hard marble flooring surrounding it.

Taeyong cannot let him fall.

Taeyong protrudes his arm for Yuta to take his hand, trying not to panic at Yuta’s already frightened face. “Take my hand,” he says, tensely but there’s a significant flash of disgust on Yuta’s face as he swats Taeyong’s hand away, rejecting it even when Taeyong forcibly tries to pull him. _Why is he not taking it?_

Yuta’s hand slips from Winwin’s.

They watch in horror as Yuta falls down.

 

 

 

Taeyong wastes not even a nanosecond to jump.

 

 

 

There’s a splash. Water floods into Yuta’s lungs halfway but he’s pulled out by strong arms, he gasps out and the first thing that he sees is Taeyong’s face which is for one thing drenched and the other, incredibly pissed.

_Right. Okay. I remember, I fell._

Taeyong is panting audibly and Yuta’s heart is thudding so loud, threatening to smash out of his chest as recollection begins and slowly his mind begins to complete the situation from perceptible fragments. His sweatshirt is soaked and the cold is freezing his water laden skin and he searches Taeyong’s face lit up by moonlight, trying to snap out of the unwanted shock. Taeyong’s _grabbing_ him, he just _fell_ down which meant the idiot had _jumped_ and Yuta looks up at the distance he fell and—

“Are you out of your mind?” Taeyong scolds loudly, grabbing Yuta’s face in both his hands to glare but to Yuta, it’s not the usual glare. There’s fiery anger that doesn’t irk him for once, rather it makes him feel like he’d done something grave. For the first time it’s affecting him though his mind is numbed.

Taeyong’s enraged voice snaps him out, “Why don’t you listen to me at all?!” Yuta doesn’t know why but he could cry now, scream apologies for acting stupid all because Taeyong looks so mad.

It’s weird how much he can’t take it, how unbearable seeing Taeyong so angry is.

But then Yuta looks down with remorse, they’re still in the pool lined with white marble and he can see Taeyong’s arm flinch which gives him the know that he’s hurt but he’s trying not to show it. Taeyong’s voice suddenly goes softer as he checks if Yuta has any wounds whispering, “Thank god you’re okay…” and Yuta can’t think anymore.

_Why would you say something like that...why are you being like this..._

“You—” Yuta starts but his lips are shaking not only from the cold but also the aftermath of having being saved from a fall that could’ve been fatal.

“Good thing I caught you before your head hit the marble instead of water,” Taeyong says attempting to lighten up the mood but Yuta’s still shook to the core.

“Y-You’re hurt,” Yuta says and Taeyong sits on the edge, pulling Yuta to be seated beside him gently unwrapping his arms from around him.

“Pool edges aren’t made of cotton, Yuta. Of course I got hurt,” he says as if jumping thoughtlessly to save people from breaking a couple of bones is stuck on his daily quota of things to do.

Yuta would call him an idiot for doing that but his chest is heavy with an amalgam of relief, adoration and indebtedness. And Taeyong has the nerve to smile at him even after risking himself recklessly.

_Why are you this way? Why aren’t you acting like the Taeyong I know- the one who hates me enough to leave me behind to fall?_

“Come on,” Taeyong says and Yuta takes a look at his right arm which appears lifeless. There had been some annoying synthpop music blaring which gives him solace that the splash couldn’t have been heard and besides, there was a lot of party hustle going on to suppress it.

“I don’t think we should go in, what if something happens—” Yuta says shivering but Taeyong doesn’t listen, he helps Yuta stand up even though his right arm is in unbearable pain. Yuta’s legs are shaking.

_I could’ve died. Holy shit, I could’ve fucking died._

Moreover he doesn’t know what to say to Taeyong. It’s not every day that the most hated person in your life end up saving you.

Yuta’s finding it very hard to say ‘thank you’. Probably because it’s not enough.

Taeyong pushes the glass door from the balcony inwards, “The lights are off and I don’t think anyone’s here so let’s just nap and leave in the morning?”

But Yuta’s not listening, he stares at Taeyong’s swelling hand—the hand he’d refused to take and now it’s because of him that it’s in pain.

_Why am I so stupid? Why couldn’t I have just taken it?_

Taeyong curses, stopping in his tracks. Yuta turns to him with wary eyes, “What is it?”

“Um...” Taeyong says with his expression morphing into one of surprise and Yuta turns to the sight he’s peering indoors.

They see Kun and Doyoung making out very indecently on the couch as welcoming scenery.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Doyoung and Kun screech while Taeyong and Yuta are too traumatized to search for words.

When Kun has detached himself from Doyoung’s lap and fixed his hair after straightening the creases on his clothes he turns to face the drenched pair.

“How did you two end up here?” Kun asks and Yuta’s internally thinking that they were so focused on snogging that they didn’t even notice someone splashing into their pool. It’s a great thing that the place isn’t occupied by strangers, now he’s much closer to his goal of finding a room to sleep in.

“Doyoung, put a shirt on,” Taeyong says shielding his eyes.

“Says the one who actually needs clothes at the moment,” Doyoung snickers before going inside one of the attached rooms to fetch some clothes for the drenched pair. Yuta tries to process this new relationship that Kun and Doyoung have struck up and he guesses its okay, they kinda look good together.

However Taeyong, who isn’t apprehensive in the least, begins to rant “Ew ew ew ew ew—” and Kun raises a hand to make him stop, “You don’t have to skim through your nonexistent vocabulary alright? We know you’re grossed out.”

Yuta shakes some droplets off his head which Taeyong finds cute like a puppy, “Kun what are you doing here?”

Kun doesn’t reply and judges them, “Where’s Winwin? You left him in the zoo or what?”

“He’s uh...on the roof,” Yuta squeaks out unsurely and Taeyong adds, “We’ll get him later but first get us dry clothes.”

“That I will but did you two drop from the sky or...?” Kun asks uselessly and Yuta groans, weariness coming over him despite the splash of water.

“It’s a long story and— _ow!”_ Yuta grimaces as Kun hits him on the head, “ _What was that for?!”_

“For making me forge in nonsense to assure that it wasn’t you that broke into a fucking sanctuary and rode off on a hippo!” Kun yells. It had been truly a bother, trying to persuade the zoo authorities to not sue them for the heinous act of riding a wild animal.

“It was a zebra actually,” Taeyong raises his hand to correct him with a straight face and it’s not helping Kun’s anger.

Doyoung appears with some clothes and towels and they’re so thankful there’s one person who isn’t the devil incarnate. Doyoung hands them to Yuta muttering apologetically, “I’m not sure they would fit you...”

“Thank you,” Yuta says with genuine gratitude and it astonishes the other two at how nice he suddenly seems. “Where do I change?” Yuta asks Doyoung.

“Bathroom’s this way,” Doyoung answers and Yuta walks off after mumbling his thanks again.

A smile plays on Kun’s lips as he looks at Taeyong who’s shivering, still drenched and ignored by his two friends, “You pumped some manners into him I’m surprised—”

Yuta pokes his head out of the bathroom to interrupt, “And Kun I will chop your dick if you don’t explain once I’m out.”

Kun sighs at Taeyong, “I take that back.”

Doyoung hands Taeyong jeans and two sweatshirts and he picks the neon green one and a towel while being careful not to use his damaged right arm which was in excruciating pain already. He’s glad neither of them notices he’s hurt; he wouldn’t like to bother them.

“Knew you were gonna pick the flashy one,” Doyoung comments, amused.

“Well there are worse ways to get attention, ever heard of Miley Cyrus?” Taeyong says, quickly changing where he stood after drying the parts of him that he could with great deftness. He dumps the wet clothes in a corner.

Doyoung sits on the bed facing Taeyong, “So lemme get this straight—you brought _Nakamoto Yuta_ to the Lee family’s annual retreat?”

Taeyong hums distractedly before yanking his pants down, not caring about the other two in the room, “Yeah I did—I mean _what?_ Retreat? You mean the good for nothing get-together?

Kun crosses his arms, “Well...why do you think me and Doyoung were making out then. In _our_ room.”

The dots begin connecting themselves. Taeyong’s eyes widen in realisation.

“Taeyong you _are_ at the retreat. Your dad’s been meaning to have this place for the get-together,” Doyoung says throwing the facts at his face.

Taeyong collapses, all energy leaving him.

“Holy shit.”

 

 

 

When Yuta’s serious, he has the attitude of a supreme court judge coupled with the determination of an army personnel and thus he’s scrutinising the three as he demands forth answers even though his eyelids are heavy enough to drop asleep at any moment.

“What the fuck was that, where the fuck am I and what the fuck is going on?” he yells making Doyoung and Kun fumble over words, terrified while Taeyong dries his hair, uninterested in the conversation.

“And why were you two kissing? I mean Kun you’re damn lucky but Doyoung I _pity_ you he’s the devil tell me you see it when you look into his eyes,” Yuta expresses and Doyoung lets out a nervous laugh.

Kun crosses his legs, “The devil just saved you from jail he can send you back.” Yuta sticks his tongue out at his best friend and Doyoung admits, “Yuta it’s okay. I sort of like him.”

Doyoung’s faced with Yuta squinting his eyes and trying to understand him with immense concentration evident, “Your taste is twisted dude.”

“I could say the same for you,” Doyoung says, pointing towards Taeyong and before Yuta can raise objections, Kun blurts, “Kim Dongyoung, is this how you confess to me?”

The background sound of the annoying hair dryer dies as Taeyong approaches them, looking like he has something very important to contribute to the talk, “Um I’m really happy about this couples development but can we please just skip to the part where you help me carry Sam over the boundary so that I can keep him in the stable and then sleep?”

Doyoung wonders out loud, “Who’s Sam?”

Yuta facepalms, ashamed, “The zebra.”

Kun springs up from his seat, “YOU BROUGHT THE FUCKING ZEBRA?!”

Taeyong picks up the nearest lamp to save himself from Kun, “Yes we did—I mean we _had to._ It’s how we reached here—”

Yuta presses fingers into his forehead to let his aches stop, “Taeyong we are _not_ bringing the zebra inside...”

“But he’s—”

“We should be focusing on how I’m gonna get out of here okay?!” Yuta says hoping to induce some sense into him since the amount of stupidity that has come out from Taeyong is truly astonishing.

“Yuta there is no getting out of here,” Taeyong says softly and that’s when Yuta decides he’s had enough of listening to him.

“Mute,” Yuta says imperatively, making a quack gesture with his hands and successfully shutting Taeyong up before turning to Kun, “What did he mean there’s no—”

Kun doesn’t reply, only pretends he’s dumb for that moment. Doyoung’s not helpful either; he only exclaims, “God you two argue like a married couple,” and Taeyong and Yuta do not need another reminder of their apparent future relationship.

Yuta gives up for the hundredth time of the day, “Y’know what, I’m tired and…zebra-lagged so I’ll deal with this tomorrow. Is there somewhere I can sleep?”

Taeyong begins to cough awkwardly. Yuta turns to Doyoung who also starts pretentiously coughing awkwardly and finally Kun who puts his hands before himself, “Don’t look at me I don’t wanna answer that.”

“Guys I just want some peaceful sleep and I can’t wander around this mansion ‘cause I’m a technically a trespasser so if you’ll kindly be of help—”

The three do not think there are words in any language to explain to Yuta about the Lee family’s annual get together and its absurd rooming provisions. The family has always been large and even close friends are invited to the get-together (which was why Kun was a regular guest—Taeyong has never considered him anything less than a good friend even though Kun is best friends with Yuta). However since the population gets too crazy to handle due to the guests being numerous, traditionally it’s come down to one rule that has been followed well over years.

The rule of the get-together is—adults and couples get their own rooms. Kids and unfortunate single people pull mattresses in the basement.

Taeyong never shows up at the get together, because he’s always without a proper date and despite not being a ‘unfortunate-single-man’ he doesn’t want to face the trauma of sleeping in the basement with all his kid cousins who yell all night impersonating pterodactyls.

Kun takes the plunge.

“Yuta if you want a bed you have to be Taeyong’s boyfriend,” he tells him flatly and then exhales as if he’d just recited the most difficult mantra for the aeons to come.

Yuta blinks at him, “What the fuck did you just say?”

Taeyong sits down beside Yuta, letting his now slinked arm dangle, “You’re actually at the Lee family’s annual get together Yuta. It’s this lame family tradition thing where the entire clan comes for a huge celebration over days and it’s—simply put, you have a date, you get a nice room to yourself otherwise you go sleep in the basement with all the crazy children who will jump on your stomach in your sleep and trust me, it’s a nightmare being down there.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Yuta breathes out, scoffing.

“We rode a _zebra,_ Yuta. You shouldn’t be surprised by ridiculous,” Taeyong mumbles.

“So if I pretend I’m with Taeyong will I get a bed to sleep on?” Yuta inquires of the other two who immediately nod truthfully, “Yes.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Yuta no should know you here. You’re not left with a choice but to stick to Taeyong,” Kun postulates with a gesture of his hand and Yuta thinks about it.

Yuta, at present would do anything would a nice pillow under his head and a bed to sleep on so he isn’t in his right mind when he agrees.

_Fake dating and a peaceful sleep? Count me in._

Yuta glowers at Taeyong, “I should’ve killed you when we were six and on the Eiffel tower then none of this would’ve happened.”

Taeyong exhorts, “Back at you.”

Kun plants his hands on his hips, “Let’s get the keys shall we?”

 

 

 

The keys, happen to be with Moon Taeil, who’s a relative of Taeyong’s as Yuta can make an educated guess. Kun leaves the room with Taeyong and Yuta tiptoeing behind. The mansion is every bit of the Adam’s family mansion and it creeps the fuck out of Yuta. He figures Taeyong’s family is on the artsy side, considering the amount of statues and paintings decorating the hallways. Kun leads them to Taeil’s room and Yuta is nervous, he hasn’t dated anyone before so acting like he has isn’t going to be easy. Yet his rest-deprived mind is ready to do anything for sleep even pretend to date this asshole named Taeyong.

Kun asks them to walk a few times together in the empty hallway before Taeil’s room just to check if Yuta and Taeyong acting like a couple was actually convincing or not. After about sixteen attempts, fourteen of which ended in Yuta slapping Taeyong’s hand from touching anywhere—Kun thinks they’re pretty okay to go.

“Are you done with making us walk the ramp?” Yuta says and the poor guy’s voice is laden with acute sleepiness.

“Okay so Taeil-hyung is really particular about which couple is fake and which isn’t and you guys have already dug a hole for yourselves because Taeyong is a screwup,” Kun articulated.

“Aye,” Yuta says in affirmation much to Taeyong’s chagrin.

“—and he’s never brought a date. At least never out of decent intentions; so if you want a room you _have_ to be on top of your game,” Kun says and Yuta gives him a lazy thumbs up before running towards the cabinet adjacent to them filled with artefacts that immediately caught his fancy.

Kun whispers warningly to Taeyong after cornering him, “You need to treat Yuta like he’s your date okay? Not chain fuckbuddy, not someone who’s pants you want to get into for one night, not summer fling—none of those, understood? It may be difficult, but be sweet in your gestures; it’s the little things that matter most.”

Taeyong snorts, _it’s easier than you think it is, Kun._ “Thank you for your fake dating 101,” he tells him sarcastically, “What did you tell Yuta?”

“I told him to try not to chop your balls. He bloody hates you,” Kun jeers and Taeyong let’s out an amused laugh at that.

“No surprise there, I hate him too,” he snickers but the words leave a bad taste in his mouth.

Kun reprimands before going in, “You keep telling yourself that.”

 

 

 

Kun knows there’s no fooling Taeil. The guy has an IQ higher than the average of the entire clan and he’s gonna detect Taeyong and Yuta’s shit act in one second.

“Is there something you want Kun?” Taeil asks kindly and Kun hesitates to chose the right words to be credible enough, “Yeah, uh Taeyong’s showed up so I wanted to get him a key.”

Taeil stands still in amazement, “Taeyong? Has he really gotten out of his habits and brought a date?”

Kun nods because his ‘yes’ might not sound right since he’s not the best at lying and he extends his hand for the key.

“So may I have the key?” he asks but he knows Taeil is thinking questionably.

Yep. They’re doomed.

“Forgive me but I’m not convinced,” Taeil says and Kun can’t do anything about this now. Taeil is someone he could confide in but telling the story of how Yuta and Taeyong are actually married in the future and should thus be given the key so that they can fix their stupid enmity of the present and how they rode a zebra to get here is way too nonsensical to do.

Kun sighs, “Well I wouldn’t blame you. But they’re outside and sleepy should I call them?”

Taeil nods and Kun runs out, his hands reaching to strangle Taeyong the moment he kicks the door shut.

“Taeil-hyung wants to see you two and congratulations Taeyong, he’s suspicious as fuck so you’re gonna have to act.”

“I’m sleepy I won’t be good at acting right now,” he whines in response and Yuta is close to strangling him too.

“You’re terrible at it even when you’re fully awake,” Yuta quips which Taeyong finds very offensive. He’s about to retort with something witty but

Despite the overflowing amount of emojis attached, Taeyong manages to read the text and pulls Yuta close.

“Smile. Act like you like me,” he says and for some reason, Yuta refuses to look him in the eye.

“I’ve been trying to act like I like you for two days and it hasn’t worked out. What makes you think it will now?”

Snarls turn into smiles once the door opens and Taeyong goes in favour of wrapping his arm around Yuta’s waist than taking his hand because its already bringing traumatic memories of only moments ago.

They’re greeted melodiously as they enter. “Welcome to the family gathering,” Taeil says in such a way that both know they’re in trouble.

Taeyong tries maintaining composure, “Hi hyung can we just fast forward to where I get my keys because I’m really sleepy?”

Taeil looks down pensively before turning to the shorter. Yuta notices how Taeil is much older than them, yet familiar enough for Taeyong to talk casually with him. He’s left wondering who Taeil is to Taeyong.

“About that, Yuta can you excuse us for a moment?”

“Sure...but how do you know my name?” Yuta asks somewhat stunned but Taeil smiles a smile which couldn’t be passed as entirely sincere, “You may have disappeared but we do recognize you. You have eyes just like the late sir.”

For the second time that night, Taeyong watches Yuta’s face go pale with horror.

Once Yuta’s out, Taeyong growls at Taeil, “Did you have to say that?”

“Oh so you’re protective about him? Might not be fake after all,” Taeil says smoothly as he flips the pages of his hardcover book printed with some gothic patterns Taeyong knows is majorly for show, “But really Taeyong, if this was a publicized event, bringing him would’ve caused a lot of ruckus. You’re lucky this is a family retreat so—”

 _“What’s your problem hyung?”_ Taeyong enunciates threateningly without even trying.

Taeil shouldn’t feel intimidated by Taeyong but he gulps before picking his words carefully, “I was only expressing an opinion; Taeyong you know about his—”

“I do,” Taeyong cuts him off. “And I also know it was all done to sabotage. Some people handle hate like a glass of tea like me but Yuta didn’t so don’t you dare use it against him,” he snares, “So your ‘opinion’ _can_ _go to hell.”_

Taeyong snatches the key from in front of Taeil, “I don’t want to hear shit about Yuta or anything that happened in the past from others or I will personally kick their throats. Make sure of that hyung, yourself included and thanks for the key. Goodnight.”

Taeil suppresses a defeated smile as he sinks back into his chair, “How important is Yuta to you?”

“You don’t know,” Taeyong says to keep the act intact before slamming the door shut.

_To be honest, I don’t know._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  winwin's still on the roof for those wondering^^  
> update: I added the chapter summary if it's still confusing...?


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Come on, there must be something in your history, something that you two don’t tell me._

Winwin watches a stray leaf get swept away past his feet by the wind. A part of him wants to believe he’s in the wrong dimension, the other is consumed by remorse from having let Yuta slip from his hands. Waiting on the roof in a chilly cold night gets lonely so he is thankful when a little squirrel comes to greet him with an acorn and a chitter.

“They’re gonna hate me,” he tells the squirrel who only looks at him with eyes that Winwin giggles on noticing that resemble those of his papa’s. Resuming his sadness, he brings his chin to rest on his knees and waits as the chilly air and every passing second make him worry what his parents would think.

 _I screwed up,_ he thinks sobbing and letting his jeans sog. _I should’ve been strong enough to hold him longer._

The evident fact is that it is his fault. All he’s been doing so far is cause trouble due to his own selfish curiosity to know his parent’s past which they obviously do not want to uncover. Winwin had ventured into a time with deluded happiness, wondering he would get to hang out with his parents but all he found were unresolved issues boxed inside one another.

“Maybe I should go...” he muses to the squirrel and as if it understood him, it skitters close and snuggles beside his foot.

When a hand rests on his shoulder, he relaxes to the familiar touch, looking up to smile at Jaehyun.

“I told you not to come looking for me,” Winwin says, turning behind to look at Jaehyun who had appeared out of thin air. “Jeez Jaehyun you follow me around every dimension—I can take care of myself,” Winwin says trying to be casual while he’s tearing up on the inside. Jaehyun often uses his mutant ability which was similar to Winwin’s, to find him. For now, Winwin’s a bit happy knowing his boyfriend’s here, but he won’t tell him that of course.

“This is the longest you’ve time travelled for, I got worried,” Jaehyun deadpans but he wipes Winwin’s eyes, “And I guess I came at the right time, why are you crying?”

“Dad almost broke his bones because of me,” Winwin says apologetically and leans on to Jaehyun’s shoulder, “And they hate each other. A lot. I guess I should give up.”

“Have a little more faith,” Jaehyun says knowing most of the story beforehand, leaning down to kiss Winwin’s forehead, “And what the hell are you on the roof for?”

“Uhh...we tried breaking into this house and then dad slipped from my hands,” Winwin says and Jaehyun is stunned. “Pops jumped right after him. If he hadn’t caught dad, he could’ve—” Winwin chokes the end of the sentence, badly tearing up at that, his nose red. Jaehyun pulls him onto his lap to hug him fully.

“It’s not your fault,” Jaehyun mutters into his hair.

“It is,” Winwin says turning to face Jaehyun who only kisses him chastely and by their fifth kiss, Winwin calms down. Uncountable kisses are what they’ve shared and Winwin still can’t articulate all the things Jaehyun makes him feel from only a single press of lips.

“It’s not. Remember the universe works on the grandfather principle? What is meant to happen will happen. In whatever way they can’t change their future and you can’t so either you can stop trying or you continue,” Jaehyun says and Winwin hums, cheeks darkening from the familiar warmth.

“You always have the best lines to make me go back to our time,” Winwin grins and Jaehyun’s eyes light up hopefully, thinking Winwin would drop ‘getting-pops-and-dad-together’ off his agenda and come back.

“That’s what I’m here for but I know you want to stay,” he replies honestly and when Winwin smiles, his eyes in crescents and brimming with light and his lips kittenish, Jaehyun leans forward for a peck because it reminds him how much he’d missed this.

“There are some things I still need to know,” Winwin tells his boyfriend who smiles, understanding the situation, “Dad is...I don’t know why but I feel he’s not telling me everything. And Pops and Dad have known each other for longer than they let it show, so I’m gonna stay here till I find out. I’m sorry...I miss you so much but—”

Jaehyun nods, giving him one last kiss before getting up to leave, “Come back home safe okay?”

“I will,” Winwin replies and watches as Jaehyun steps into his portal, returning back to his respective time.

Winwin watches the portal disappear; leaving no trace as if it had never been there.

_I will._

 

 

 

Taeyong stares at Yuta who sits on the top of the staircase, crouched and confused. The manor is pretty huge, not to mention scary if it were not for the little downlighters positioned at every corner. He hates himself to have let Taeil let something like that slip because Taeyong knew well that Yuta was sensitive about his dad. Yuta looks up as he hears the door close, he should be holding umbrage at what Taeil had said but then he felt crushed and stepped on.

It wasn’t a new feeling.

Taeyong swings the keys in his hands. Kun had left to sleep and Yuta didn’t want to keep him up when he had Doyoung to be with and that he’d done way too many favours for a day. He’s cached out but the moment he sees Taeyong he unreasonably gravitates towards him and raises an inquiring eyebrow that was meant to convey ‘what should we do next?’

His apparent ‘boyfriend’ (God forbid he ever has to say it again, even in his head) sighs and looks back at Yuta, stutters because of his current notice of Yuta’s skin glowing in the dim light of the hallways.

“L-Let’s go get Winwin,” he says and hops up the stairs. Yuta’s urge to pass some sour comment dies as Taeyong turns behind and looks at him with the same look he had when he asked him to take his hand.

Yuta knows that if Taeyong asks him to do anything at this moment, he would probably do it, feeling so weak and like a slave for his words. His heart digs itself further in his chest, forming a feeling of concavity that he’s finding it difficult to breathe.

 _It’s only because he saved me,_ he reminds himself. _Or I’m sick...I’m probably sick._

Taeyong searches his eyes and Yuta curses inside because eye-contact is what he’s been trying to avoid.

“You wanna come with me or...?” he asks politely and Yuta’s knees don’t wait for a signal from his head, rushing to Taeyong’s left wordlessly accompanying him.

If Kun ever came to know Yuta had agreed to even spend three seconds with Taeyong, he knew he would never let him live this down.

 

 

 

Taeyong begins calling Winwin’s name and he immediately rushes for the door leading indoors from the roof where he finds his parents standing, looking worried yet relieved all the same.

 _They’re okay,_ Winwin thinks and a huge weight gets off his chest, he rushes over and hugs Yuta crying out, “I’m sorry Dad. I should’ve—”

“My fault kid,” Yuta says sounding weary as he hugs him back. What Winwin cannot see is Yuta looking at Taeyong regretfully.

“It’s okay,” Yuta says, “I’m fine, see? No injuries” and Taeyong doesn’t miss the way Yuta looks regretfully at his arm. Winwin is so thankful for this moment, his heart swells and he pulls Taeyong and Yuta together to hug them.

The feeling is familiar yet foreign as Yuta and Taeyong are left with no choice but to wrap their arms around Winwin. It’s weird, it feels like they’re accepting the dynamic of a family.

It feels like they are one with Winwin.

 

 

 

 _My fault,_ Yuta thinks, lying on the bed staring at the dark sky outside the window, _because I hated someone so much but he was the only one who would risk himself to save me._

_But how do I even find words with which I can apologise to Taeyong?_

"You alright?"

Yuta can hear Taeyong yet he pretends to sleep since he can't come to terms with the concern that he's showing all of a sudden.

Taeyong had gotten the keys, and silently walked them to the room they were to stay at. It was a pretty room, in all ways old fashioned, (like Taeyong) there was a walk in closet and shelves stacked with blank papers and a canvas scroll leaning beside one shelf.

They had hit the bed instantly, with Yuta too tired to argue that Taeyong should sleep on the floor (justified claim since he was the one responsible for getting them into this mess). Winwin had crawled in between his parents forming a barrier separating and Taeyong and Yuta and he falls asleep fast, snoring heartily.

"Yuta I know you're not sleeping," Taeyong says, getting up to sit on the bed, eyes imploring and looking over Winwin to Yuta, worried.

Yuta looks back at him, confusion all over his face and its one of those times when he thinks Taeyong's eyes are seriously hypnotic, holding him captive and he can't refuse him if he's looking at him with so much of that indecipherable emotion.

"Can't sleep," Yuta says turning over to the open balcony, letting in beams of strong moonlight. He doesn't notice Taeyong getting up and pulling a thin blanket from the cupboards until he sees him kneeling beside Yuta, tucking him in.

"Better?" Taeyong asks and Yuta doesn't even think a person is allowed to look this good up close. Yuta shuts his eyes, snuggling into the blanket Taeyong just put over him.

Yuta hums, feeling a bit sleepy again, "Yeah... _thanks—"_

"Don't mention it."

 _"—for catching me,"_ Yuta finishes and Taeyong, turns shocked towards him remembering how he'd fallen, the ticking inside his head going louder.

He says nothing, only sits beside Yuta's lying figure with Winwin's snores in the background. "How's your arm?" Yuta pipes up and Taeyong is brought to pay attention to it. He'd almost forgotten that his arm resting on a sling was hurting, "It's...completely fine."

"No it’s not," Yuta cuts in softly.

Taeyong smiles and agrees, "It’s not."

Since there isn’t anything Yuta can offer to help Taeyong with his paining arm, and that talking about it made him feel like a terrible person, Yuta stretches cat-style on the bed, taking in the warmth of the blanket with a view to change the topic, "This is probably the most civil conversation both of us have had till now, don't you think?” Taeyong didn't think they'd be able to talk like this if he’s not counting the few neutral words exchanged when he’d taken Yuta to the café.

"You're only being nice to me because I saved your life," Taeyong points out and Yuta giggles a giggle that's tugging his heart.

"Right...it sucks now that I can't be mean to you," Yuta answers humorously and it’s a refreshing change to both of them, whatever this is.

All of a sudden Yuta can breathe again, his chest is lighter and his mind devoid of pain. He feels much better.

Taeyong turns towards Yuta, watching him as he tries to suppress his smile and his arm has developed a mind of its own, wanting to run his hands over Yuta's hair that looks supple albeit fried.

There's a doubt lingering in Yuta's mind so he voices it out, "Do I have pretend to be boyfriends with you tomorrow too?"

"I guess you have to,” Taeyong replies bluntly, “Until we get out of here."

Yuta’s face scrunches, "What sort of twisted family tradition is this?"

"Believe me, it’s why I never show up," Taeyong tells him, leaning back a bit but then realising they’re too tired for a nightly chat, "We're keeping each other awake. Go to sleep."

He scoots back to his side of the bed and Yuta feels the warmth around him dissipate. Both want to tell each other 'good night' but they can't—they still hate each other, they still do not want to face the future in which they're married and it would feel wrong of they did try to be friendly in the least.

_If it was only that easy._

They fall asleep to an hour of the night that feels like an incomplete moment.

_Weird._

 

 

 

Being an early bird has its advantages, worms aside, one of them, as Taeyong discovers is that he has plenty of time to find a telephone somewhere in an empty hallway. He can survive on four hours of sleep per day, but when he wakes up to see Winwin and Yuta providing him with an interesting alarm tune of synchronized snores, he figures they can’t.

He hurriedly jabs in Thomas’ phone number and breathes in warm air into his hands to keep himself from feeling the morning cold as he waits for the prelude of ‘trings’ to finally give way to Thomas’ voice.

_First, apologise._

_Second, tell him that you’re at the retreat._

_Third, tell him you brought Yuta to the retreat._

_Four, if his shit shipper brain runs wild remind him that you’re still not dating Yuta._

Taeyong’s mental checklist is quite easy to strike items off since Thomas is a literal angel, he doesn’t question much only scolds him in a way that Taeyong feels he’s interacting with a being of ethereal gentleness and another bonus is that Thomas always proves to be an excellent interpreter to his parents who never seem to find any response other than ‘Taeyong, everything’s banned for you’. He hopes Thomas will understand the atrocious ways in which he’d gotten into this mess.

Turns out this time, Thomas wasn’t exactly cooperating as per Taeyong’s expectations.

“Yeah—I get it,” Taeyong pretends to listen to Thomas’ professional banter, “Don’t worry I’m at the retreat and I’ll be fine—can you send a heli to pick us up?”

_“That I can but your parents will not be pleased. Leaving the get together abruptly is a disrespectful gesture—”_

“—Thomas I’ve puked in my dad’s business conference on purpose! I don’t care about disrespectful and you know that!”

_“Sir this is different.”_

“Explain different.”

_“You’ve brought Yuta to the get-together—”_

“It’s because of him that I’m asking you to get a heli to get us out of here!” Taeyong says, taking care to keep his voice down in case his cousins or aunts with dog audibility hear him.

There’s silence after that and Taeyong lets his suppressed growl take the attention of his mind as he waits for Thomas to reply. When he does reply, he completely pushes Taeyong off his mental road to get a helicopter or at least a quad for getting Yuta and Winwin away from here.

_“The retreat is going to last only three days. Wouldn’t you want to make the most of it?”_

Winwin is from the future. Anyone other than Taeyong, Yuta and Kun knowing this fact would wreak havoc. Which is why rationale persuades him to just tell Thomas to _get the fucking helicopter_ here but Taeyong is tempted.

Tempted to stay because, it’s practically the first time since long that he’s actually been to the get-together; tempted because he remembers this is where he’d met Yuta for the first time when they were kids. He remembers how he and Yuta used to run about playing but mostly arguing day and night with a bunch of other friends, always on opposite teams and it’s been years-ages rather and he shouldn’t dwell on those childhood memories but still Thomas makes him feel like he’d want to relive it all again.

Their fathers had been good friends so there was no question of Yuta not coming back then. But as they grew things changed—had changed drastically. A sigh forces itself out of him.

He can’t go back to the time everything was okay but maybe if it’s worth the shot, he can try to recreate it; all in all, the get-together is supposed to be a joyous event, isn’t it?

“I’ll think about it,” he says and he knows Thomas is smiling from the other end of the line. Manipulative sonovabitch.

_“Have a good few days with your date sir.”_

“Yeah yeah you don’t have to rub it in my face and hey, can you fax the floorplan of this place?”

_“Why?”_

“Oh nothing. Just uh...I wanted to _enhance_ the get-together experience.” Taeyong says lying and eyeing the fax machine sitting beside the telephone with subterfuge cooking in his mind already.

Thomas may be super smart but he can’t really differentiate between the times when Taeyong’s being normal and when he’s bullshitting him.

 

 

 

Taeyong slams the door open and Yuta springs up from the bed like an awakened vampire—with terrible hair of course. He blinks vigorously to let his vision clear and Winwin yawns. He knows very well what an actual morning freak his papa is. Taeyong holds a dead-tree version of the floorplan in his hands like a certificate, announcing, “I GOT THE FLOORPLAN!”

“You don’t have to bang utensils to wake me up you sound like a pelican already and shut up for fuck’s sake or I will cut you up and feed you to your soul,” Yuta rasps out without pausing for a breath, in no mood to even open his eyes.

Winwin, still with his face swollen as he faces the morning light cascading from the balcony glass door has enough stamina to lift one leg up in the air and begin exercising. Taeyong is impressed while Yuta thinks some nuts and bolts are missing in his head.

“Winwin why are you standing like a flamingo?” Yuta asks Winwin, accepting that mornings win and Yuta’s sleep needs lose as he gets up, fixing his hair.

“Dad it’s yoga,” Winwin points out but Yuta is too busy growling because he can’t even run a comb through his hair.

Taeyong plants hands on his hips, “Are you two even listening to me; I got the floorplan.”

“Yay! Brilliant!” Yuta says with an absurd amount of fake enthusiasm.

“Look Yuta—”

A ferocious knock on the door interrupts Taeyong and stimulates Yuta to fix his clothes, all three of them turn to stare at the door and an aged female voice yells from the other side.

“Young man, open the damn door!”

Taeyong sweats, pushing Winwin behind the thick embroidered georgette curtains, “Yikes it’s mom. Winwin quick hide hide hide.”

With a fake smile plastered on his face and Yuta seated on the bed pretending to read Taeyong’s book on anatomy which he was trying not cringe at, Taeyong opens the door and grins even wider at his mother who’s facial expression threatens physical violence.

“Mom! I didn't think you'd be here I mean I totally knew you'd be here but it's still a surprise—how are you?” he chirps out but Taeyong’s mother is sneering up at her son and to Yuta it is so hilarious to watch.

“I know you're up to know good and there is a goddamned zebra loitering around the manor and Kun tells me it has something to do with you and—oh my goodness,” she stops midway, her mouth hangs open when she sees _Yuta_ standing beside the bed, pretending to neaten it.

“Yuta,” she gasps out and Yuta can see flecks of tears in her eyes. He doesn’t protest when she hugs him, wrapping Yuta up and squishing his being because to Yuta, Taeyong’s mom has been more like a mother than his own ever was. He sort of missed her too over his years of disappearance.

He looks over her shoulder to see Taeyong with his arms crossed and sweetly looking at them and it sends Yuta’s heart racing but his mother snaps him out of it.

“Yuta...look how you've grown,” she tells him, caressing his face and Yuta is getting hit by so many motherly vibes that he can’t stop grinning, “Thanks Mrs Lee, you look great as always.” He sees Taeyong roll his eyes at that and for some reason it’s funny and he lets out a laugh that resembles a love sick teenager’s.

Taeyong’s mother, long forgotten all the anger she had stepped into the room with, looks from Taeyong to Yuta and then from Yuta to Taeyong. “You two...of course you two kept fighting as children a-and I should’ve known you like each other,” she realises and while both return their biggest smiles. Yuta’s inner guilt is gnashing him.

_If she finds out that we’re only pretending...the world will end._

She squishes Yuta’s cheeks again, “I hope Taeyong keeps you happy” and Yuta is left wondering if he’d have to face more squishing from all of Taeyong’s family members.

Yuta looks at Taeyong with the nicest sheen in his eyes which has Taeyong turning red to the tips of his ears (thankfully Yuta did not see) and then Yuta turns back to his mother, “That he does.”

Taeyong’s mother smiles, bubbling with pride and happiness. “Come down for breakfast then both of you,” she proposes but Yuta’s breath hitches.

“Maybe I shouldn't...” he says unsurely and he’s thankful Taeyong’s mother understands.

“Uh...Yuta can't right now,” Taeyong cuts in protectively, “I’ll go alone and bring breakfast upstairs.”

His mother looks at Yuta comfortingly, the wrinkles on her face are a lot more than the last time Yuta had seen her but she still is very beautiful, pretty sure Taeyong gets his good looks from her. His eyes unconsciously go to stare at Taeyong and he mildly chokes on his spit.

 _I did not admit Taeyong is good looking. Brain, delete that_ , he commands himself internally.

_Good looking. Sort of. I mean I didn’t think that. I didn’t._

Yuta should really guide his focus elsewhere. He doesn’t meet neither Taeyong’s concerned eyes nor his mother’s who were busy discussing something in the duration of his internal tsunami debating whether Taeyong was good looking or not.

_Inference: I kinda think Taeyong maybe just maybe a tad bit good looking. End._

He physically slaps himself.

_Delete that._

The stars are in his favour so Taeyong’s mother takes that slap as hesitation or nervousness to have breakfast with everyone else so she commiserates, “Yuta it's okay they were all rumours, alright? Nobody believes in them. You'll be alright but if it really makes you uncomfortable...Taeyong will bring breakfast up here.”

He exhales, “Thank you, Mrs Lee.”

Taeyong proceeds to walk out of the room but Mrs Lee stays put, arms thrown over her belly as she glares at her son. “What?” Taeyong asks with faux niceness since Yuta can see he’s impatient to get breakfast.

His mother draws her lips into a thin line, “Aren’t you forgetting something Taeyong?”

Yuta doesn’t even have enough time to blink before Taeyong pulls him into his arms and his lips meet Yuta plaint cheek, making Yuta’s eyes close when they do and flutter open as they leave his skin with a sound so feeble only he’d heard it but it was enough to stimulate a whirlwind of sensations in him.

It was only a short second, but Taeyong lets his fingers on Yuta’s chin linger as he looks into his eyes. Yuta feels like he’ll blast and no doubt his face is turning into a stoplight.

_I had completely forgotten ‘pretending’ entails PDA._

Taeyong seems to be a natural at this kind of stuff and Yuta is not surprised but his knees are fucking going to turn into goop if Taeyong keeps looking at him like that.

"I'll be back okay?" he assures Yuta and the words are softer and nicer to hear.

"Okay," Yuta finds himself whispering back and his lips are shaking because Taeyong is close enough and given the situation, he could do anything.

He can’t help it but his imagination runs pathetically wild.

_Not a John Green moment. Please._

Taeyong’s mother coos over them and Yuta gives her his shit eating grin concealing any of his internal discomfort threatening to spill out until they both exit the room. Once the door shuts he falls back on the bed, trying to calm his breathing.

It’s okay. Cheek kisses are fine. Kun does that gross stuff sometimes. It’s fine, he repeatedly tells himself but he needs a fan at the moment, reaching his chest as if patting his chest would slower his heartbeat.

“Are they gone?” Winwin says from behind the curtain and Yuta replies, “Yeah kid. Come out.”

Winwin peeps adorably from behind the curtains and makes a questioning face at how red his dad looks but he doesn’t say anything, only fumbles with the air conditioning remote, confused because his time has nicer tech until Yuta helps him to it.

“Dad, can I ask you something?” he says after they’re settled on two chairs at the table with a computer on which Yuta is scrolling down the Netflix cue with utmost concentration.

“Ask away,” he says expecting Winwin to ask him something like ‘what is this orange television’ or ‘what is your favourite show dad’ but his bones freeze at Winwin’s question.

“Dad...why do you live alone?”

The moment has come to tell him everything Yuta had been avoiding since day one of Winwin’s arrival. He looks at Winwin’s innocent face, it’s one that hasn’t seen anything bad and Yuta wishes he could disappear to avoid answering this because Winwin is precious-he’s his son. And he would never have told him anything about him if he hadn’t asked until now.

“I’m—Dad I’m only asking because I’ve never met my grandparents I mean your parents in my time and you never bring them up I was curious—”

“Winwin it’s okay,” Yuta says looking down as he swings his movable chair to face him fully, remembering Taeyong’s word’s that he’d eventually have to tell him everything.

“It is a long story.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~everything to know about yuta’s family in the next chapter i'm sorry~~ please don’t get confused about the elements in the story, it’s chaptered so everything will be explained eventually.  
>  I hope everybody’s doing great! Thank you for the love you’ve given this fic!  
> come say hi [twitter](https://twitter.com/irontaeyong) | [tumblr](http://heartanthem.tumblr.com/ask)


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **warnings:** mentions of abuse, alcohol poisoning, family drama  
> 

“What do you mean...?” Winwin can’t help but say as he looks at Yuta’s features turning into the polar opposite of what he’s known his father to be—dull, gloomy and sombre.

He knew he was pushing Yuta to a field of memory long abandoned, wanting nothing but answers, but he realises it’s for the best.

_I want to know. Why couldn’t you tell me?_

Yuta takes in a breath.

“Taeyong and I, we played together as kids,” he pauses, “I guess we were what two or three? I don’t know since when we didn’t get along but our fathers were good friends which is why I ended up with Taeyong most of the time while they discussed some adult things. But that was back then.”

“So that’s why grandma knows you,” Winwin whispers and Yuta nods before looking into the distance with eyes lost in the memories playing in his head.

“I think I remember this mansion too but it’s a vague picture because I guess I was little when I came here,” he tells him, with a sliver of nostalgia. “We weren’t friends or anything but y’know kids don’t care if the most hated person is on the opposite team it just made the games more fun. Even though we didn’t like each other then, we were often together because of our dads.”

“So my grandfathers were close right? They founded the Lee enterprises together…” Winwin asks, his question drifting away as Yuta’s frown deepens.

“Yup,” Yuta says popping the ‘p’. “Earlier there was my surname attached until my father withdrew and started his own company from scratch. I got separated from Taeyong but his dad still liked me loads.”

“Why did grandpa withdraw?” Winwin inquires, and with the sweat that’s trickling down Yuta’s forehead, he knows he’s pushing him closer to breaking point.

“Do you really want to know Winwin?”

Yuta has now turned to look at him fully and Winwin hates seeing his father like this. He’s breaking and it also lights a fire in him, a belief that Taeyong can mend the cracks one by one.

So he nods.

“My mom was always abroad, I never really got to see her. I mean I barely knew her but it wasn’t a big deal. She’d visit me when I had some PTA or a soccer event but that’s all she did. Formal ‘parent’ stuff which she had to, otherwise we hardly talked. Sometimes I thought she didn’t love me or whatever but then I excused her because she was always busy and because she was my mom—I loved her a lot.”

The day ticks closer to noon, but Winwin can see it rain in his dad’s eyes as he narrates.

“When I was six, my father finally brought mom to meet Taeyong’s family.”

Winwin notices the slur at the end of that. It’s like a crescendo reaching its terminal note and he is expecting Yuta to crash but instead he smiles sadly.

It’s even worse.

“That’s when she fell in love with Taeyong’s dad.”

“Of course she didn’t mean to tell anyone; I overheard,” he says, letting Winwin sob quietly. Probably he knew the story but assuming he doesn’t Yuta goes on, “I came home to find her confessing her love in screams and shouts while I watched from the open door, hearing her willing to give up everything for him.”

“Taeyong’s father I guess did feel something for her because he didn’t yell back. He told her that there was nothing he could give her and he couldn’t and wouldn’t accept her, like a sensible person he reminded her that she had her own family to take care of.”

Winwin looks up at Yuta with blurry eyes and Yuta reciprocates a pathetic smile.

“He told her that she had a son—she had _me_ to look after but she snapped that she didn’t care if I died,” he says but Winwin knows he’s not finished, “My father heard it all too. I mean, he was standing right behind me when it all happened.”

It isn’t Yuta who cries, Winwin does, falling on Yuta’s lap and letting tears drip continually. His dad thumps him on the back trying to comfort. Yuta doesn’t let a tear drop no matter how much it hurts every time he remembers this—he can’t cry. Pity for himself no longer makes him pained because it’s always going to be there. There’s no use crying about facts he’s learnt to live with.

“Mom and dad separated after this. She remarried, he didn’t. When I realized I didn’t fit into her new family and that she had stopped looking at me like her son which was kinda okay because my dad looked at me like I was a mistake—I did what I could. I ran away. I guess I lost vision of a place where I was wanted, I had nowhere to go.”

 _If Papa knew, he would’ve never let you be alone,_ Winwin thinks believing this determinedly.

“I don’t remember how but I found myself at a bar—drunk to the point of poisoning and I didn’t even know when Kun had found me. If it wasn't for him, Johnny, Ten—those idiots who are somehow friends with me for ulterior motives I do not know; I'd be in a pretty bad position I guess. He took me to the hospital and even though he offered I told him I would get a place to stay myself but then my mom died.”

There’s more crying on Winwin’s part and Yuta pats him through it.

 _I didn’t know dad. I’m sorry,_ but Winwin can’t say what he’s feeling because his throat is dry and eyes red.

“What she left me with was enough for my education and so I removed my surname, wiped out everything I could about myself and all my dad did was abandon me. Not unexpected. He didn’t come looking for me, he didn’t give a rat’s ass—not even once. Instead, he thought it’d be better to tell the media I had run away due to some teenage hipster thing so that’s what he did. He used my absence as a publicity move.”

“And funnily,” there’s a stroke of ruefulness in it which makes Winwin let out another sob, “People believed him. The tabloid uproar about my apparent disappearance ended in false and _wild_ conclusions. Some say I ran because I was a coward—that’s the one I remember because that’s what my dad used to tell me.”

“I thought the reading of the will was the last time I’d ever see his face but he found me one day. It wasn’t difficult, he’s often invited as chief guest at conventions and that’s where he saw me. I didn’t know what I was to him and he pretended as if he hadn’t left me to fend for myself for all these years, he kept talking as if I'm the heir to his company and when I told him to go to hell with it—he did this...” Yuta pulls up his sleeve to show cuts and scratches slashed over it. Winwin gasps and dares not touch them because it hurts just by looking. They’re red and some look fresh making him wonder how long has it been since that.

“But why would he?”

“To look me in the eye and tell me I’m worthless, that I’m a shame. To show me _why_ I am worthless,” Yuta answers and his hand lifts from Winwin’s back.

“Dad...”

Yuta raises his shirt a little, pulling the hem up to reveal more scars and bruises and Winwin gapes and kicks himself inside because he didn’t know. But what could he do?

“Taeyong is so stupid. He thinks these are marks from his punches when they’re not. Dad finds me every month and does this and I can’t run away from my apartment. How long will I keep running away?”

“I didn’t know,” Winwin weeps into Yuta’s shoulder, holding him, “I didn’t know Dad.”

Yuta’s lips curve up to suppress his from and he’s hugging him back, having shed not even a single tear through all of this, “I can understand why my future self didn’t tell you. You don’t need to know—I want to you to be happy Winwin. And I don’t know if I’m a good parent—I can’t trust myself to not let any of this kind of shit happen to you.”

_Winwin on my future self’s behalf, I’m sorry because I should’ve told you sooner you deserve to know._

“You’re the best dad,” Winwin sobs out with teary eyes and it’s a reminiscent of what he’d said when he first arrived. Yuta smiles with pain on his lips.

_I promise to take good care of you Winwin. I’ll protect you._

_Always._

“Don’t be sad,” Yuta tells him, turning into his optimistic and bright self. “I’m alright, see?”

Winwin lets Yuta wipe his tears and hugs him fiercely. “Let me breathe,” Yuta croaks out and they fall back into place, laughing away the previous dullness.

“Good to see you’re smiling,” Yuta points out, ruffling Winwin’s hair and Winwin mewls. Hair-ruffling is one thing that is familiar to him, his dad does it even in his time.

Yuta announces with a glint in his eyes, “Now let’s watch some fucking animes and forget this conversation ever happened.”

 

 

 

“Really Yuta, animes?”

“It’s working!”

“I don’t think it’s the right way to go…”

“As long as it’s productive I don’t think you should have an objection.”

Taeyong drops off the tray full of breakfast on the bed, kicking the door shut. He watches them both seated at the table, engrossed in an anime Taeyong doesn’t know of and he catches Winwin watching a giant meat man on the screen peer over the walls. Taeyong is mortified.

“You can’t teach him Hangul like that, he’ll get confused,” he protests.

“No he’ll not,” Yuta is quick to answer.

“Yuta it’s Japanese dub with Korean subtitles where is your logic?”

“...touché.”

Taeyong smiles triumphantly and switches the computer off. Winwin doesn’t notice him doing so and whines “HEY!”

“Breakfast first. Animes later,” Taeyong says and Yuta is already ripping toast between his teeth.

“So what were you saying about the floorplan,” Yuta asks with a mouthful of food muffling his voice to some extent.

“Oh that,” Taeyong remembers and leans over behind Yuta to get the paper from the side table, “If you look closely to the left side of the campus...”

“Dang, this place is huge,” Yuta exclaims and Taeyong glares. “Let me finish?” he tells him and Yuta sticks his tongue out at him making Winwin laugh on watching them act immaturely.

Taeyong points to a box on the left. “This is where they cut firewood and store it. So there must be a gate nearby. Or some passage. But we have to move at night if you want to get out.”

“We’re miles from the town,” Yuta points out, rolling his eyes, “You gotta come up with something better than this.”

Taeyong scoffs, “We’ll find the road and I’ll call Thomas to send a car. ‘Cause Sam is being returned to the zoo today...”

“I can’t believe you even considered riding that dumb zebra again,” Yuta wonders and Winwin thinks he’s the only designated responsible adult in this situation considering how his parents are yet again turning into potentially mutual murderers.

“Dad I think you’ll have fun here. Me and Jaehyun always have fun at the Lee family get-together,” he tells them slurping milkshake.

Yuta chokes and in between a fit of coughs he manages to speak, “This sick tradition continues till then?”

“That’s rude,” Taeyong snaps, fetching Yuta some water and shifting to the priority. “I’ll go and check if there is a passage this evening and we’ll have to wait till night time to sneak out of here. Then let’s think about how we’re gonna get home.”

“Very well,” Yuta exhales “I’m just going to sleep—” but singsong voice stops him. Winwin runs and hides behind the curtains right before the door opens and Yuta’s mouth drops as Joy barges in and begins yelling.

 _God, she hasn’t changed either,_ Yuta thinks and it takes six seconds for Joy to notice him.

“Taeyong I heard you brought a date and OH MY GOSH YUTA YOU’RE BACK!”

“Go away Joy,” Yuta says, groaning as he wraps himself in the blanket like burrito filling. Joy puts a hand on her heart and sighs dramatically, jumping over Yuta’s blanketed self and squishing him, “I missed you~”

Taeyong points, “She’s gonna kiss you.” Not letting Yuta process the warning and turn and twist, Joy kisses him full on the mouth, muting Yuta’s helpless sounds of protest. It’s her weird way of saying hi and showing affection, Taeyong knows this and he doesn’t seem to mind.

Ergo, he watches the show and Yuta’s disgusted face as she pulls away and nudges him happily like a cat. _I can kiss him better than that,_ Taeyong thinks before his eyes widen at his own mental imagery.

Joy doesn’t seem to pay attention to either of them and Winwin sweats behind the curtains thinking his Auntie Joy wasn’t this hyper-energetic.

“I haven’t seen you in years Yuta and Taeyong you bastard couldn’t you have told me you had found him?” Joy accuses still hugging blanket-Yuta.

Taeyong raises his glass from his lips to smile comically, “Surprise?”

Yuta groans, unappreciative of the progress of the day, “Joy get off of me you weigh as much as a bull.”

Joy narrows her eyes at him, “You haven’t changed at all Nakamoto.”

“Does everyone know I have a date?” Taeyong asks her and Joy shrugs, “Well duh. Word travels fast.”

 _Great._ Taeyong thinks. _Now it’s even more difficult to get us out of here._

Yuta sticks a hand of his burrito to soothe his ailing back which Joy had just sat on, her weight having already broken his ribs. He didn’t expect Joy to be this happy to see him, in fact he’d thought she would have forgotten him by now. They were friends when really young and before the shitstorms wreaked chaos on Yuta’s life.

“Yuta why don’t I show you around? This mansion is really cool!” she exclaims delightfully with her eyes shining even though she isn’t visible from Yuta’s head stuck in the blanket, he knows she’s ready to drag him out by force.

“No please don’t— _JOY NO!”_ he starts but Joy ignores flings him by the arm and pulls him out of the room like a road runner.

Taeyong sighs, closing the door. Nothing and repeating, nothing stops Joy from getting her way. He looks around and cleans the bed, changes the cover and Winwin crawls out of his hiding curtain silently sitting on the chair. Taeyong knows that he’ll have to help with lunch downstairs before they can actually make the escape plan work.

With his arm hurting terribly, it’ll be difficult but he’ll try anyway. He spots Winwin swinging in the chair and smiles.

“That was a close shave,” he remarks and Winwin gives him a half smile.

“I should stay behind the curtains at all times,” he comments and Taeyong laughs in agreement.

Taeyong pulls out an apron from one of the drawers after searching for a while, “I’m gonna go downstairs to help with cooking, I’ll bring you lunch and stay in the room alright? No one should know you’re here.”

Winwin grins to convey he’s understood but it alarms Taeyong as he puts an arm on his elbow which isn’t slinged.

“Papa...there’s something you should know,” he says with such graveness that Taeyong forgets his hurry and sits down to listen.

Winwin tells him everything Yuta spilled today.

For the first time in ages, Taeyong holds his head in his hands and cries.


	10. Chapter 10

Until 8th grade, to Taeyong, Nakamoto Yuta was nothing but annoying.

Textbook definition of nerd, scored ten marks higher than the maximum possible score, never wasted opportunities to disrupt the class and make the teachers question their own intelligence but win their hearts with the biggest and most pathetic smile Taeyong had ever seen, he was exactly the species that Taeyong thought the world could do without—Nakamoto Yuta.

Yuta had marked a pinnacle for Taeyong’s mom and dad to forge into Taeyong’s life; a standard Taeyong could never reach. He didn’t know what he loathed more, him or the fact that this living paramount of perfection was slowly dictating the way he saw himself. It wasn’t Taeyong’s fault he wasn’t born a freaking genius, or that he didn’t chose to be one; nor was that good at math—yet he worked hard to be what his parents wanted him to be.

But hard work was proven meaningless when at the end he still wasn’t Nakamoto Yuta.

He decided to take a drop. Discovered art, kissed a girl, dated her for a few months, had his first painting at an exhibition, wrote songs and felt pretty good about himself for that one year of not going to school because he didn’t _see_ Nakamoto Yuta. He didn’t catch sight of that image he could never be.

He hoped he would forget about his existence, eventually. He truly hoped.

 

 

 

“Take me back in time,” Winwin hears his father sniffle. Even as he speaks, the waterfall of tears doesn’t stop, Taeyong’s sleeve is drenched beyond further absorption. Winwin reaches a hand out to hug him but Taeyong is persistent and his words, startling.

“Take me to where all that shit started, can you do that for me?”

 

 

 

Unlike most people, Taeyong doesn’t remember the day he met Yuta. He has no recollection of the first meeting of him; the amount of information, curiosity and emotion he’s had for Yuta has always either been nil or pertaining to disgust.

Maybe there might have been one day where he felt something _different_ for him, but it was a crumpling of his stomach, a sickness, nausea that spread over his body - it was that night when Kun took him to visit Yuta in the hospital.

Ever since then he’s been fighting that feeling which arrives every time he envisages the image of Yuta sprawled on the hospital bed, lifeless from the eyes of one who didn’t know he was recovering. Taeyong had been dating Kun at that time, teenage hormones and all, and he hadn’t seen Yuta for a while until then, a fact he was glad about because whoever wanted to see their sworn enemy anyway.

But then after one long year since Yuta had left for Japan, he saw him.

Drunk to the point of death, unconscious on the hospital bed but Taeyong could swear he could _feel_ him crying. He was stiffened, adhered to where he stood at the door to the ward while Kun said nothing, only going to kiss Yuta’s forehead, look at him wearily and leave the room. Nothing had been the same ever again.

Taeyong had broken up with Kun that very night.

When asked for the reason behind doing so by his friends, Taeyong, encircled by drinks and empty chips wrappers, pulled at his own hair, bloodshot eyes refusing to blink.

“I don’t know… _I don’t know…”_ he had kept chanting like a madman. Was this anxiety? If not then what was that pain? He kept at it, not saying a word and only thinking over the messed up jumbles in his head until everything went black on him.

 

 

 

“Wha-Pops I can’t do that!” Winwin tries to protest but Taeyong’s grip on his hand tightens.

“Please. You need to understand—you do understand that right? I need to change everything so please. Take me to the day when Yuta’s mom confessed to my dad. Winwin you have to—”

Taeyong feels his son’s hand go lose in his grip. He looks up, one eye blurred with brine and the other covered by his soggy fringe.

“It’s impossible for me to do that, Papa...I’m sorry,” he apologises, and Taeyong cries again. There’s no confronting Yuta with the fact that he knows his story now. There’s no room for apologies, no point in crying, and even if he is crying it’s like he’s ripping out the pain that had long been rooted in him. Everything is just...hopeless and empty.

“Even if I could...Papa, what would you even be able to change?” Winwin says ruefully, taking his hand back and there it is in his eyes.

Resentment.

Taeyong decides that that’s enough fuel for self-hatred for one day. He stands up, Winwin has that bitter look on his face and call it parental instinct or whatever, Taeyong knows the kid is blaming him for everything that happened to Yuta. He washes up and dries his hair and when he gets out of the bathroom and exits through the main door, he sees Winwin is still standing where he is, with the same look of crestfallenness Taeyong had wished he would never see.

_I need a drink._

 

 

 

Taeyong hasn’t brought himself to remember that one visit to the hospital. He somewhat blamed Yuta in his petulant mind for everything bad which was happening to him. To him, it was Yuta’s fault for having existed, like a god amongst men who’d get burnt if they flew too close.

When Taeyong returned to attend 9th grade, his father died.

Taeyong had imagined the first time he’d be wearing a suit would be for his parent’s seventeenth anniversary, not for his father’s funeral or the reading of the will that took place hurriedly after the funeral rites, but look how things turn out unsurprisingly because when has life been good to him?

He’d come back to school feeling proud of himself, feeling accomplished and maybe his parents would appreciate that little piece of himself he’d found in his newfound talents. Turns out; for his dad to see, it was too late.

The will was read out, halfway through and Taeyong was fidgeting and shivering in his seat, restive despite warm weather. His mother who sat by him as well as the relatives close by had their faces swollen, yet he remained strong because he was sure they were expecting him to be so for them. At a time like this, he felt it was his duty to be of support to his family.

“Pay attention.”

His mother said these words, Taeyong’s eyes were confused as he looked at her. It had come to a point where she didn’t even want to address him, it seemed. He obeyed, because he was told to and sat still, listening to the contents of the will being read out.

When Taeyong was in 9th grade that his father had left his multinational company to be inherited by Nakamoto Yuta.

And since then, Taeyong _hated_ him.

 

 

 

The past hour had pretty much gone like this: Joy walking Yuta to the various rooms but not letting him actually see them and continue asking lewd questions about his sex life (hashtag very nonexistent) but for the sake of fake dating Yuta had to use the minimal creativity he was blessed with at the end. Most of their walk throughout the mansion had been with a red faced Yuta not wanting to lie but if a lie was what made Joy stop embarrassing him, he’d have to force himself to do it.

Yuta clasps his hands in front of her, bending to lay his torso on the table, “All of this hanging out has been very nice but I’d like to rest.”

“Rest?” Joy exclaims, as if it was some unattractive word from an alien language. Colour runs down Yuta’s face because he’d never expected her to be so eager to torture him.

Joy had eventually dragged him to the coffee tables perched on the first floor’s enormous balconies and blabbered about how many events the family holds during the get together.

Somewhere in between, she smiles and Yuta’s brought back to the time when she had braces and a runny nose with short hair. Somewhere in between he gets reminded of the time when all played as kids, when things hadn’t gotten fucked up.

Speaking of his exhaustion, it is as useless as Joy is proving it to be while she shoots a glare from where she’d hooked an arm around Yuta’s. Not to mention Yuta was currently being transported downstairs in a manner similar to that of a kite flying than a human being walking.

Joy pushes him through the door before Yuta can even process thoughts about seeing members of Taeyong’s family who could possibly recognise him. When he does meet a few, he’s saved by Joy’s bright introductions. Some remember him, some don’t (thank you, fried noodle-hair) but they seem nice and very ~~good looking~~ polite, which makes him question if genetics really applied to these people because Taeyong was _nothing_ like them.

He waves goodbye to Minhyuk who was apparently Taeyong’s closest cousin and boy, is he charming or what.

The kitchen they’re in now is empty, thankfully. Joy hums as she digs out enough caffeinated drinks to kill ten men and nachos to make Yuta sport a gigantic belly.

“Here! Drink up and you’ll be fine,” she urges.

Yuta shakes her shoulders hysterically, “What part of ‘I’d like to rest’ do you not understand?”

“Yuta it’s the middle of the day, I really wanted to show you around! Don’t kill the fun. Besides, I don’t see the point in resting until you and Taeyong were— _oh”_ her mouth forms a pretty ‘o’ but the swarms of butterflies in his stomach isn’t a pretty feeling at all.

_She didn’t just imply Taeyong and I fucked, did she? Again? She’s done that almost fifty times but again? Why has the world come to this?_

Yuta is a nanosecond away from spitting his drink out but instead he manages to keep it in his puffy cheeks—he cannot afford to jerk a reaction to this. If he was on an announcement spree in which he told everyone that he’d gotten married to Taeyong in the future and this delightful information had been delivered by his future son dropping decades earlier, even then Joy would have been the last person to know. She tends to get a bit carried away.

_Am I sure my life isn’t a poorly written drama? No, I’m not._

 All of a sudden Joy’s phone rings and Yuta mentally blesses the caller like he hasn’t blessed anyone more in his life.

“It’s Kun,” she says, promptly handing him the phone.

Yuta makes a contorted face and grumbles about taking his blessings back. Kun calling him is never a good thing, citation of past experiences not needed.

 _“Your boyfriend is drunk. Do something,”_ Kun tells him and Yuta cannot resist rolling his eyes.

“He’s not my—” he begins but Joy raises her eyebrows and Yuta smiles at her with faux felicity.

_“Look Yuta don’t make excuses, he’s seducing a butler_ _—oh great now it’s butlers_ _—and this is technically your problem. Get your ass to the ground floor before his uncles come for a drink, that’s all I’m asking.”_

Yuta’s list of crazy in his life just keeps adding on. He wonders what other shit is in the universe’s agenda to drop on his poor head, probably alien corpses littering his room when he gets back home, his best guess.

_Why me..._

Yuta puts the phone down and sips his coffee casually. He’s too run down to do anything about anything. He’d rather pretend he’s slimy cornstarch than going downstairs and then pulling Taeyong to the fifth floor, which was their room.

“He said Taeyong’s drunk right?” Joy asks him, gets responded by Yuta nodding before resting his chin on the table, clearly unaffected by the information, “So?”

“Take responsibility! You can’t leave him drunk there!” Joy yells.

“Of course I can,” Yuta replies nonchalantly. “He’s not a baby.”

“Babies don’t get drunk Yuta,” Joy pierces his ephemeral mirth at how it’d serve shityong right to just leave him there.

Yuta raises his hands as if to say, _‘your point?’_ but the phone rings yet again and Yuta grabs it hastily.

“What now, Kun? I’m not his mom I won’t go there to get him—”

“USE YOUR LEGS TO GET HERE WHILE YOU HAVE THEM BECAUSE IF YOU DON’T YOU KNOW EXACTLY WHAT I’LL DO”

“Loud and clear,” Joy smiles and Yuta groans yet again.

_Why me?_

 

 

 

Getting to the ground floor was unspeakably easy and surprisingly, finding where Taeyong was, was even easier. There was a tiny open room guarded by cabinets that rose to the waist and backed by an even larger cabinet that filled the wall and guess what it was filled with. Booze. So much expensive booze.

Yuta notices a lot of bottles of wine missing and he’s pretty sure Lee Taeyong was the culprit.

“You made it. Thank goodness,” Kun says, appearing form some corner Yuta didn’t notice.

“Uh…where is he?” he asks him but he hears a drunken giggle at the end of the hallway and well, that’s how easy it was to know the answer without a worded reply.

“He’s at the bar…” Kun mutters, “follow me.”

The bar is well, shocking for one, admiring the beauty of vintage wood sculpting isn’t really Yuta’s thing but at this point Taeyong is so embarrassing that he’s ready to look at Kun’s crotch for distraction.

“That’s your man,” Kun says, making a TV Show host’s ‘presenting’ gesture and Yuta doesn’t understand how Taeyong is even legal.

He means literally because drunk Taeyong is currently impersonating a kid who just got denied nutella by his mommy.

Yuta is left indecisive since he has no clue if he should keep watching for blackmail material or not because seeing Lee Taeyong with a ridiculously flushed face and greasily winking at the traumatized butler is really entertaining.

“He looks like he’s having fun,” he remarks and Kun glares. “Look don’t make that face, the bar’s empty! Let him get into someone’s pants it’s not like any of this is my business. And come on, I’m sure that hot butler has dealt with a lot of drunken people hitting on him…”

Yuta stops making excuses when he sees Taeyong reach up to the butler, watches his fingers dribble up the buttons and even though the butler is trying his best to be modest and push Taeyong away, Yuta can see that butler is thoroughly _enjoying_ it.

That snaps a nerve.

_Oh no you so fucking didn’t._

Kun has no clue where all that sudden anger came from but once Taeyong held the butler’s tie loosely and before he could prolong his perverted face and pull it off—Yuta fought all flames of instinctive violence and dragged Taeyong out of the bar by the ear. He doesn’t give Kun a second look, only kicking the door with Taeyong pulled behind him who lets out an inebriated _‘Bye-Bye Kunnie~’_ before the door slams shut.

In hindsight, Taeyong was the horny drunk.

And now that Yuta knows, he can finally close his mental drunken nomenclature module. What a relief.

"YutaYutaYutaYutaYutaYutaYuta," he keeps chanting and giggling and Yuta has the urge to throw him down the staircase from the fifth to the ground floor. Few threats through gritted teeth fail to stop Taeyong’s ebullience.

“Yukkeuriiiiiiiii”

“What the hell does that even mean?!” Yuta yells and his exasperation seems only more hilarious to Taeyong who hiccups with his arm thrown on Yuta’s shoulder. Yuta thinks it’s strangely cute and that’s a really unnecessary thought so he doesn’t let it last.

Once they’re there, he drops Taeyong on the floor and is surprised that he’s somehow functional enough to yap "BED!" and jump on it.

 _Finally,_ Yuta sighs mentally. _He’ll knock right off to sleep._

But when Taeyong begins to rub his back on the bed sheets as if he was a boar looking for a nice back scratch, Yuta’s expectations and temper get demolished. It does look inappropriate but Yuta’s given up on this unnatural version of Taeyong, his micrometer length’s tolerance isn’t going to suffice to provide any more babysitting power.

Winwin walks out of his bathroom residence at that moment and looks visibly traumatized when he sees Taeyong thrusting up to air. Winwin runs back into the bathroom, immensely terrified and now Yuta is plain pissed.

"TAEYONG CLOSE YOUR LEGS DAMMIT!"

"But I don't wanna~" and then Taeyong begins to take of his shirt. “I’m an octopus~”

"Winwin stop him!" Yuta yelps, leaping to stop Taeyong’s hand from revealing skin which Yuta doesn’t want to see, but Taeyong hums distractedly and Yuta’s forced to yell, “Stop taking everything I say as a request for you to take your shirt off!”

“Dad I think the weather's pretty hot too so it's fine...” Winwin interjects, slightly opening the bathroom door just to pass that comment. Yuta tries holding Taeyong down, keeping enough distance so that Taeyong doesn’t hump on him, and he’d really like his unhelpful son to give him a hand.

Winwin rubs his pinky into an ear hole casually, “Besides, you shouldn't get bothered it's not like you like each other or something—”

Very, _very_ unhelpful son.

“We should tie him to the bed,” Yuta suggests breathlessly because Taeyong’s hip thrusts are getting out of hand, now that Yuta has somehow managed to tuck his shirt tightly into his pants that Taeyong momentarily forgets about stripping.

“Dad, that's kinky!”

“Winwin, that’s practical,” Yuta debates and Winwin really doesn’t know if he should agree because given the state of the current situation, his other dad is very problematic at present; humming Ice Cream Cake and slithering on the bed looking like a cute Kraken and that, Yuta will not deny.

All reasons why to conclude that Yuta’s getting bothered is trumped by the fact that Yuta is, in fact very much bothered by a drunken Lee Taeyong moving like solid sex on the bed.

"Yuta look at me,” Taeyong says and Yuta turns his eyes away before his blood reaches unwanted areas.

_Someone tell him to stop being so..._

"I wont you dipshit!" Yuta shouts but he’s sure he’s speaking Valyrian to Taeyong turns his face and snickers, “Cute,” before falling down on the bed.

“I guess that’s it,” Winwin says from inside the bathroom, “Pops will be normal in an half an hour or so.”

Yuta is stupefied. _I can’t believe I’m blushing because I got called ‘cute.’ This is against the law of everything._

Winwin continues to be unhelpful, his voice reverberates in the bathroom, “You like getting him drunk for free strip shows in the future by the way!”

_That’s it. This is insane. Winwin is hundred and ninety nine percent from another dimension. This can’t be happening, I’m getting outta here, fuck it._

Yuta is not even a millimetre away from the bed when Taeyong’s limp hand reaches out to pull the hem of Yuta’s shirt. He’s forced to look at him, and it’s not the first time Yuta is worried but Taeyong can barely lift the arm he had hit while saving Yuta.

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong whimpers.

“Taeyong what are you—”

Taeyong, who is still drunk as ever, pulls him to sit on the bed with all his leftover strength, face buried in Yuta’s torso and arms wrapped tightly behind Yuta’s back, all the while crying, “I’m sorry...I’m so sorry.”

“Taeyong stop crying...”

“I’m sorry Yuta...I’m sorry,” Taeyong relentlessly keeps saying and Yuta is freaking out as to how to make him stop tearing up. Taeyong’s apologies and cries slowly become undifferentiated until his grip on Yuta suddenly goes a bit loose and he calms down, only sobbing.

“Forgive me?” he lifts his head to look Yuta in the eye and leaves the younger stuttering. His reply still in formative progress when Taeyong drops onto Yuta’s lap, where he was crying earlier, but this time he’s fast asleep.

Before he knows it, Yuta is pulling the sheets over them, careful not to move much lest Taeyong should wake up and he tries pushing down so that they can lie comfortably. His hand reaches to touch Taeyong’s hair but it freezes in mid air, Taeyong’s apologies from the day they found out they were wed to each other all coming like an intense flashback.

Yuta strokes Taeyong’s hair, it’s unbelievably soft and all his resolve to untangle his fingers out of it is lost since his eyes begin to droop as well.

He hums. _Maybe falling asleep like this is not half bad..._

There’s a camera flash from the bathroom doorway.

“WINWIN WHAT’RE YOU LOOKING AT?!” Yuta yells at his son who coyly hides his phone away and locks the bathroom from inside with the most mischievous smile Yuta has seen him have yet.

“Oops.”

“YOU’RE GROUNDED. IN ADVANCE.”

 

 

 

Taeyong wakes up with his shirt gone and pants popped open and hanging two inches below where they're supposed to be. Aside from the surges of pain in his head he also has some remix of ‘I got a hangover’ running in his head which he did not ask for.

The first thing he notices when his eyes find the light is that Yuta is nowhere in the room and judging from the fact that Winwin is on the computer, trying very hard to teach himself how to use the mouse and that there were splashing sounds coming from the bathroom not to mention a suspicious lump of clothing on the floor that looks like what Yuta was wearing—Yuta was probably taking a shower.

“You woke up!” Winwin chirps and Taeyong smiles. _Looks a lot more cheerful than last time, that’s a good thing._

Taeyong rubs circles on his forehead, “Yeah I think that's pretty evident—” his voice turns into a hiss at the end because of the sudden needle of a headache. Winwin hands him some water and Taeyong feels a bit better after drinking it.

He's met with this stage so many times he's not even going to waste time into thinking how he ended up half naked on the bed.

“I got drunk, didn't I?” Taeyong states more than asks. Winwin nods, spinning in the movable chair by the computer desk.

“And gave Dad a strip show,” he adds and Taeyong gawks.

“How much exactly—”

“Full Monty.”

“Oh go—”

“And confessed your insurmountable love for him in exaggerated prose and Shakespeare quotations.”

“I— _WHAT?!”_

“Just kidding Pops you didn’t do any of that, don't get so riled up. I don’t even know who Shakespeare is,” Winwin shrugs and teases, “unless you do have _feelings_ for Dad…”

The world seems to be testing Taeyong because at that moment, Yuta walks out of the bathroom with dripping hair and towel (note: tiny towel) wrapped around his waist that left a slit where the ends met because Yuta loved his hair so much more to use the bigger towel to wipe it. Not to mention Yuta’s thigh gap was great.

About his heart's feelings, Taeyong doesn't know so he leaves Winwin’s question unanswered but his dick is surely having feelings right now.

 _Behave, Taeyong Jr., behave,_ he scolds because he is most likely to get hard if Yuta keeps coming closer. It’s been really long since Taeyong got laid so he excuses Taeyong Jr. for getting a bit excited.

It’s not a sudden revelation that Nakamoto Yuta is strangely attractive. Taeyong has known this since forever but, he’s never been _affected_ by it and that, currently disturbs him. It disturbs him very very much. If Winwin saw saliva drop out of Taeyong’s mouth while he was ogling Yuta, he didn’t say anything. These sort of things were nothing new to him.

Yuta throws the towel that was on his head on Taeyong, breaking his trance and Taeyong really wants to tell him to put some clothes on, but Yuta ends up swatting him on the face continuously.

Taeyong scoffs, defeated and wincing from the pain because towels hurt a lot, “If you say there was a fly I'll never forgive you—”

“Are you an idiot?” Yuta says and it takes ten seconds for Taeyong to kickstart his brain because Yuta had water trickling down his neck and bare chest and it was like _the_ best cure for his headache. It’s only when Yuta thwacks him again that he regains functionality.

“What did I do?!” he protests loudly. Winwin puts his headphones on, clearly engrossed in some historical drama.

“Who the fuck gets shitfaced drunk and starts stripping!? I mean Kun gets drunk all the time and yet he doesn’t do anything as outrageous as that! It was the most disgusting thing I’ve seen!”

“Er...because he's a more civilized drunk?” Taeyong mutters half-assedly because his head hurts too much to compute a proper reply.

“You were so embarrassing jeez, I thought we were closer to getting out of here but you ended up with attempts to kill your liver,” Yuta says, turning dejected to the end and Taeyong blinks adorably before turning cheeky.

“Aww is that some concern I hear?”

“Hey you two—” comes Kun’s voice and neither had perceived the door open. Kun stands there gobsmacked and judging the pair, proceeding to huff.

“Y’know last time you two freaked out after seeing me and Doyoung make out but this is worse guys. Much worse,” he deadpans and that's a reminder which brings Yuta to the current scenario that Taeyong isn't wearing a shirt and Yuta isn't wearing _anything,_ save for a towel—

—and is half sitting on Taeyong's lap, trying to hit him with a bigger towel.

“This isn't what it looks like,” they chorus but Kun looks unimpressed, crossing his arms. Yuta suddenly notices Taeyong’s perfect forearms and swallows.

“Like really? I know you two have a gun in your pants for each other but in front of Winwin? What are you teaching him?”

Kun watches their faces turn into an #ff0000 and shakes his head because they’re too obvious to act mature about this. "Nevermind,” he says, changing the topic, "put on some fancy clothes there's a party downstairs."

Taeyong snorts through his hangover-laden mind, “Party? What time is it?"

"It’s 11 something," Kun replies.

"11 something?"

"Look at a fucking digital clock if you’re so in need of details. Be ready in five. _Both of you,"_ Kun says, before gleefully walking up to where Winwin was, only to get kicked by Yuta.

"Is that really necessary?" the end of Yuta’s question is when Taeyong leaps out of bed and the speed makes him slam his face into the bathroom door but he still manages to get in and puke his guts out successfully.

Kun sighs, pitying his ex-boyfriend, “Taeyong can be excused. Poor thing.”

“What about me?” Yuta asks with his fingers crossed.

“I’m sorry you didn’t get drunk so you're coming with me and Doyoung. And it's not like you want to take care of Taeyong or something.”

Suddenly the idea of using that excuse seems very appealing. But then, his stomach is growling since the last thing he ate were nachos and canned coffee, he hopes there’d be something good at the party. That’s what parties are for. Food.

“Fine…get out Kun,” Yuta groans as he pushes Kun to the door who’s still talking for some reason, “Me and Doyoung will be waiting. Dress nice or I will dress you up and you do not want that—”

“Yeah yeah. I got it,” Yuta answers in pretence to seem like he was listening and sighs once Kun’s out. Taeyong had told him there’d be clothes in the wardrobe and Yuta can see they belong to Taeyong and there’s also drawer full of lingerie too which Yuta slams shut since they must belong to Taeyong’s previous dates to this get together.

_And to think I have ended up here. As a date. Of the guy I loathe. Life is certainly rewarding._

Yuta finds a rare red shirt amongst the all the black colored outfits, his jeans are too flashy and tight for Yuta’s liking. He changes, grabbing some water from the miniature fridge after that and peeks in the bathroom in which Taeyong had been groaning and puking earlier but had now grown awkwardly silent.

“Taeyong?”

“Yeah I'm almost done cleaning up wait a sec,” Taeyong replies ( _weirdly_ , Yuta might add) and it’s oddly endearing that he’s such a neat freak. Honestly, if he’s so unwell, Yuta would have cleaned up his mess.

Yuta is staggered by his own thought. _That’s a first, wanting to take care of someone besides Winwin._

Taeyong turns back and Yuta shoves the bottle of water into his bare chest with a stoic movement. Taeyong miserably eyes the bottle which acts as a standoff between them, Yuta doesn’t really look at him until he speaks.

“What did you mix in this?”

“Depleted uranium,” Yuta replies ruefully since Taeyong shouldn’t be fucking thankless.

“I guess I could use death,” Taeyong says, chugging the water down and Yuta sighs, annoyed.

“Sleep,” Yuta directs but Taeyong whines, grabbing a shirt.

“But I _need_ to party…”

“You _need_ to rest,” Yuta says, turning back to emphasize his point but Taeyong is creepily close and that startles him so he hisses, “What’re you staring so much at?”

There’s a mock pout on Taeyong’s lips, “Your eyeliner is pitiful.”

“Fuck you,” Yuta doesn’t even hesitate to say.

“I'll do it.”

“…what?”

“The _eyeliner_ , what were you thinking?” Taeyong says, rummaging the drawers to find a bottle of black liquid which Yuta had sparingly used earlier.

“You just want to poke my eye don't you?” Yuta speaks out and the next second Taeyong does exactly that, except with a cotton and it’s lotion on his eye not the eyeliner thank goodness.

“Glad you realized it so fast,” is Taeyong’s smug reply but Yuta isn’t finished until he exacts revenge for pushing on his eye like that. So he neatly kicks him and pours the eyeliner bottle on Taeyong’s fingers.

“There,” Yuta exclaims, satisfied; looking at the black mess on Taeyong’s fingers.

“You piece of shit this is going to take forever to wash off!” Taeyong yells but in vain, he’s right the eyeliner is not going to wash off that easily and Yuta notices there’s not enough removing lotion left so he’s contented, keeping that evil smile on his face.

“Jeez, why do I even try to help you. Put the darn eyeliner yourself,” Taeyong says, and plops on the bed and Yuta might have held back a breath because there’s something like odd guilt in his stomach.

He lets it go once he’s outside and walking towards the hall where Kun had told him to be.

Something hurts a bit.

 

 

 

“See the rules are; don’t let Nakamoto Yuta drink. But this rule is easy because he doesn’t prefer drinking himself but just in case don’t be the dumb guy who hands him a beer, alright?”

“Got that,” Doyoung deadpans, his body getting restive. Kun won’t let him take them to the dance floor until Yuta walks through the door and until he’s done with Yuta’s babysitting 101.

“Rule number two: don’t let Yuta dance with strangers because this is a party where ninety percent of the population are taken and _ergo,_ might end up in something ugly. And keep a close watch because the lighting is shit you take your eyes off Yuta once and he’ll be gone.”

“Then he’s definitely going to be gone because I’ll have my eyes on you,” Doyoung says, winking.

Kun is however, not impressed, “You suck at pickup lines, do that again and I’ll dump you.”

“I’m sorry,” Doyoung immediately apologizes, “Is that all of the rules? And shouldn’t you be telling this to _the boyfriend?”_

“His boyfriend got midday drunk, he’s such a loser and is alternating between puking and sleeping so Yuta’s alone,” Kun explains, letting his eyes drop down in thought. _From the look of it they’ve gotten closer…but I’m not sure how long Winwin is going to hang on._

“There’s Yuta,” Doyoung exclaims waving a hand over for Yuta to reach them. Junkets of food lined up were probably the first things the three pay attention to after exchanges of the usual ‘hi’, ‘hello’s, ‘taeyong is such an ass’, ‘i know’ etcetera.

The light is dim and they munch on unknown stuff, trying to guess what it is and Doyoung is oddly fun and nice, he pisses Kun off every minute and Yuta finds them hilariously cute.

Slowly the room gets more compact, the AC drops the temperature lower as more people advance. Some familiar faces from the earlier in the day when Joy had him running around the mansion.

“Finally! Good music!” Kun yells and drags Doyoung to the floor, “I’m gonna dance till I crack a fucking vertebra! Yuta you coming?”

“Nah, I’ll just eat,” Yuta says because he was, after all here for a nice meal and he is sort of feeling an odd rush to go back to the room to check on Taeyong.

_He looked really pale…I wonder if he’s okay—_

Yuta kicks himself. Literally, earning some strange looks from people who noticed him. He smiles and awkwardly moves closer to the dance floor.

_No I’m not gonna check on Taeyong that asshole can rot for all I care, jeez did I actually say that?_

Yuta’s vision is hazy, he’s been without his glasses for days thanks to the strange sci-fi dilemma of his. He’s ate to his heart’s content, he should feel fine but speaking the word ‘Taeyong’ in his head automatically loads unwanted images of the day, such as the time when he was sitting on the bed shirtless—

_Okay that’s it. I’m gonna go dance with hot unidentified person, animal, jarjar binks, whoever the fuck—just anyone, to get him out of my head, because lately, everything sucks._

He gives a scanning glance at the crowd of people. There are so many, swerving to the music and Yuta’s absence of a partner really doesn’t bother him. Not everyone in this room is aware that he is Taeyong’s date, and even if they did, Yuta didn’t care.

Sexual attraction to Lee Taeyong is something he would deny till he died but knowing it was the truth deep inside was the real thing that was killing him.

He raises his head to the crowd, moving closer, dancing by himself and it’s strange that his head is spinning, looking for a touch.

He feels he’s being watched.

For once, it’s not a bad feeling.

 

 

 

“Pops?”

“Hmm?” Taeyong says from where he was rinsing his mouth for the fifth time to get the bad taste out.

“Where’s dad?” Winwin asks him, sounding sleepy.

“He’s gone with Doyoung and Kun. There’s a party downstairs,” Taeyong replies, remembering that Winwin had his headphones on during the whole scene when Kun was forcing Yuta to go along with him.

Taeyong fixes himself up, stares into his mirror and his sooty hands on which Yuta had spilled eyeliner on. _Jackass._

“Alright pops I’m running out of patience here,” Winwin all of a sudden raises his voice and Taeyong fumbles in confusion.

“You do know that you are going to fall in love with dad right? Whether you want to or not, whether you like it or not. So why are you two making it so complicated? It’s not like you can stop that from happening,” Winwin says and gestures to himself, “The reason I exist is because you two will love each other.”

“So you’re asking me to drop to my knees before Yuta and confess feelings I don’t even feel just because you’re telling me they’ll happen?” Taeyong’s tone is almost rebuking and Winwin shivers.

“I’m sorry. Just Pops I told you...there’s nothing you can change. Past or future. All I’m asking you to do it is to accept him. Because if you don’t accept him you don’t accept that I am your son. And I may not be your biological kid…but I love you both. So please.”

“Winwin he doesn’t want me. He doesn’t even like me and it’s all justified, like I basically ruined his life, why would he ever—”

“Then make him want you.”

Taeyong’s jaw drops.

Winwin tilts his head from where he’s wrapped in the bathtub, lippy, “You’ve always been good at that right?”

“Winwin what are you saying?” it is unbelievable he’s having this conversation with Winwin. Does he want to put in an effort? Does he really want to?

“You want him too,” Winwin tells him flatly, “Why fight it now when it’ll eventually show?”

 _This is kid fucking stubborn he really takes after Yuta,_ Taeyong thinks. “Winwin, I told you it’s not...you’re asking for the impossible.” But the boy isn’t listening.

“Just think about all the strangers he could fall in love with tonight, don’t you get jealous Pops? What if he—”

“That’s enough,” Taeyong yells and walks out of the bathroom. The door slamming shut is enough indication for Winwin to know he had pissed him off.

He curls up into a ball.

_You’re willing to change the past but you’re not willing to make the present better...what do you want Papa?_

 

 

 

Piercing eyes are coming nearer and it’s strange that Yuta can feel it. It creeps him out if he’s being honest but it’s enticing, he knows the person is watching how he’s moving and Yuta’s enjoying himself a bit too much in indulging this stranger.

When a firm chest presses onto his back, Yuta sinks into it completely.

 _Took you long enough,_ Yuta thinks but his thoughts are stolen away by the stranger’s warm breath on his back, his hand running down his arm, touch feathery and hey, none of this was bad so far. The gentle touch alights on his hips there’s no hesitation in, it only sensuality and Yuta likes it.

He likes it a lot.

The fabric of the stranger’s jeans scrape roughly against the Yuta’s thin slacks and he’s suddenly so glad he didn’t pick any of Taeyong’s stupid skinny jeans—but he isn’t here to think about Taeyong, he’s here to get drunk and forget about all the pathetic family trauma baggage he’s been carrying, to forget about the _future_ family trauma baggage he’ll have and he completely loses himself in the loud music which is all he hears and the hot breaths and occasional touches he shares with this stranger.

It’s too hot, Yuta is now sweating and he’s done with grinding onto this stranger for the past ten minutes—he _has_ to see him. When Yuta makes an indication that he wants to turn around, the man breathes over Yuta’s nape, bites a little as Yuta grinds more aggressively and from the look of it, he wants more of that.

Yuta pulls the stranger’s face over the bared path from his jaw to the neck of the t-shirt he was wearing and his hands waver past his sharp jaw to his soft hair while the stranger is willingly sucking on all the skin he can get his lips on.

It is too much for Yuta, the tease is driving him insane; he’s got to turn around.

But Yuta feels strong fingers glide over his eyes and block his vision as the stranger lets him turn around. Yuta, spent with desire, already has his lips parted and their lips smash in a heated kiss. The stranger covers Yuta’s eyes gently with his fingers, depriving him of vision. After that soul-sucking kiss, it doesn’t really matter whether Yuta’s seeing who he’s kissing or not.

It’s like the stranger took a freaking course on what ways Yuta likes to be kissed.  They’re going at it quite eagerly and it gets hot enough for them to stumble to the nearest wall. Even if Yuta’s eyes did open to peer through the gaps in the person’s fingers he only saw dark hair and an odd shine on the stranger’s right eyebrow, it was too dark to squint and see more.

The drag of their lips go slow, with occasional bites here and there. Yuta is deprived of seeing this temporary indulgence but that doesn’t seem like much to complain about because the music is absorbing their moans, their bodies roll against each other in sinful circular motions. Yuta feels himself hit the edge of a small table and the stranger, never letting go of his hand over Yuta’s eyes, straddles him to leave lasting sugary kisses—

And then he’s gone.

Yuta is left cold and hazed as if none of that had ever happened. The music has changed to a slower number, and Yuta is left sitting and breathing too loudly in attempts to calm himself. His heart beats with the memory of the kisses and he guesses it’s time to go back.

While walking to the exit, Yuta still looks around one last time to see anyone retreating, anyone walking away.

 _I guess I was dreaming,_ Yuta shrugs.

 

 

 

 _No I wasn’t dreaming,_ Yuta sighs into the mirror where there were a number of red blotches on his neck and shoulder. Winwin and Taeyong are cuddled up and sleeping on the bed and Yuta needs to clean his face fast before any available space for him is taken away because those two love to sleep like starfishes.

Yuta’s fringe is down to his eyes now, and he’s inspects it, contemplating how long it had been since he’d last gotten his hair cut. His body is thrumming with satisfaction, he’s glad he decided to agree with Kun and go to the party. He should agree with Kun more often.

_Well...I had fun._

He wonders what the stranger he’d just made out with looked like. _Whoever he was, he sure knew how to kiss._

Yuta moves closer to the goes to the sink, pulling off his beanie and grabs tissues to clean his face. It’s a bother he has to lift the thick curtain of hair over his eyes and air whooshes out of him when he notices something weird.

There are smudges of black on his cheek, forehead and around his eyes.

He watches himself freeze for a moment and then with a severe expression, his gaze involuntarily goes to the bottle of eyeliner beside the tap; then his mind goes to one memory.

_“You piece of shit this is going to take forever to wash off!”_

As if on cue, _Taeyong_ snores from the bedroom and the only sound Yuta can hear after that, is the drumming of his heart ringing in his ears.

_It...can’t be?_

He splashes water on himself repeatedly and after minutes the black ink disappears. Yuta stands at the corner of the bed in the dark room, his mind is unable to compute thoughts. The little moonlight filtering into the room makes something around Taeyong’s right eyebrow shine and Yuta is fucked. So very fucked.

He decides to plank on the bed, dead still and his eyes don’t close, remaining blown as if his eyelids were pulled back by some telekinetic force and his heart is hammering so frantically to the point that Yuta feels that’s the only organ working in his body.

He only tells himself; _Breathe, Yuta. Breathe,_ but he can’t help but peer over his shoulder to look at sleeping Taeyong.

He goes breathless.

_...why?_

 

 

 

Taeyong wakes up earlier than the two of them, some natural instinct to cook breakfast probably responsible for that and he carefully removes Winwin’s lanky leg from over his. Winwin moves a little before turning to his left and sticking to Yuta like a baby koala.

Taeyong’s lips tilt into a smile before getting off the bed. Sitting down, he’s crouching before Yuta’s sleeping face, admiring it and thinking about how he’s going to talk to him about everything. Taeyong finds himself leaning forward but pulls back once he notices how bruised Yuta’s lips already are. His neck is dark red in some places and Taeyong tsks, suddenly regretting not having control over himself last night.

He walks out of the room, deciding to wake them up after an hour.

_You were right Winwin…I ran out of patience too._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> erm…i’m on hiatus because i suck at all things written and my brain needs serious rebooting.  
> apologies for updating after forever, i rewrote this chapter six times from scratch and hopefully its…uh good? my exams end on 24rth so hopefully updates will be faster by then :) take care everybody!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyyyyyyy(☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞

_Right, I have to help with breakfast,_ Taeyong snaps the duty at himself, yawning and running a hand through his hair. As for the intense snogging that had happened last night, Taeyong knew better than to completely feel at ease assuming that Yuta would never know it was him because the dude is smart after all, he’ll eventually figure it out or somebody might just say the incendiary words along the lines of ‘you got love-attacked by Lee Taeyong’ and that’s not even something Taeyong made up. People ended up dropping such terms spontaneously during his previous relationships as well.

Taeyong hits his knees on the dresser, suddenly rendered clumsy by the recap of the little moans Yuta was leaving into his ear last night and on the way to the door, he pushes aside the chair before the PC table, which has his arm jolting in pain; the lack of attention he’d given it after it slammed on the pool edge finally showing signs. Taeyong experimentally swings it, hissing when he pulls a muscle too hard. It pains, but he’d rather ignore it for the sake of not bothering anyone with his puny injuries, he could get used to it instead...

With Taeyong’s thoughts occupied about how he didn’t have any less fucks to give about his arm, he fails to notice Yuta waking up. And also charging at him with as much ferocity as a Minotaur but fortunately, Taeyong’s sleepy eyes widen enough for him to see Yuta aiming his fist and he dodges enough to let the punch land on the wall beside his head.

 _“What the fuck?”_ he breathes out. Yuta seemed like he’d just sprung out of bed with an immediate incentive to kill.

“You jerk,” Yuta glowers, making Taeyong feel like he’s going to be slaughtered. His bungling attempt to slide away is shut down by Yuta’s firm hold on his arm.

He winces enough to let Yuta get the hint that he’s hurting him but Yuta doesn’t get eh hint because he’s so angry and when he feels the hold turn into a death grip, Taeyong voices out, “Let go.”

Yuta looks beyond pissed and usually this would end up in curses and punches thrown everywhere but from where Taeyong is standing, Winwin is sleeping soundly _right there_ and he’s not going to put up with any of Yuta’s nonsense right now, sticking to his no more fights rule like permanent adhesive.

“Yuta,” he tries slowly but then looses it when his arm hurts enough to make tears well up, “Fucking let go. _Right now,”_ and when he doesn’t, Taeyong growls before grabbing Yuta’s shirt and pushing him away, blood pounding in his arm. Yuta, still glaring with crossed arms and standing 178 centimetres in his prime, pays no heed to Taeyong’s flushed face and how he helplessly stumbles to the nearest chair.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” Taeyong yells, though not so loud since Winwin was still asleep.

Yuta stares at him with rage enough to make all the hair Taeyong has on his body (which is not much in the first place) stand up. Yuta strides over and stands in between Taeyong’s legs, forcing him to look up.

Then, Yuta brings his hands to his collar and in consecutive clicks undoes two buttons of his shirt.

“This,” Yuta grits through bared teeth, showing the hickeys scattered on his neck from where he’d pulled down his shirt.

“What does _this_ look like to you Taeyong?”

 

 

 

“You had one job Doyoung,” Kun pouts (the reason being that it was Doyoung’s turn to tidy the bed) which is not supposed to be cute but it is and Doyoung can’t stop cackling about it. This, obviously irks Kun even more who proceeds to fling Doyoung by the shirt and throw him on the bed, it stops him from spazzing but it doesn’t stop him from laughing.

“Take me seriously, will you? I’m trying to be mad at you,” Kun tells him, arms on his hips and well, he is serious but that just makes everything even cuter to Doyoung.

“As if you can possibly be mad at me,” Doyoung clicks out his arm and rests his head on it, the draw-me-like-your-french-girls pose almost makes Kun smile. _Fuck him,_ Kun thinks but then they’d already gone three rounds before sunrise so he settles on some measures of self control.

Doyoung pats the bed next to him and Kun huffs before settling in, turning Doyoung by the shoulders so that he could spoon him, “Damn Yuta’s such an idiot.”

“I thought you were mad at _me?_ Continue; it was pretty entertaining,” Doyoung says and Kun lightly bites his earlobe.

“Shut up,” he says and Doyoung turns around to face him.

“I’m offended you’re thinking about Yuta when you’re in bed. With me,” he tells him earnestly adding a blink afterwards for additional effect.

“I was making conversation? Is that not allowed?” Kun starts, met with Doyoung’s lips assaulting his cheeks in fluttery kisses that tickle, “Nope.”

“I just... _Taeyong_ , get it? If Taeyong actually has feelings for him...not that it isn’t obvious already-Yuta’s a genius and he’ll surely figure it out and then-”

“Then they’ll leave us to make out in peace. That’s what’s gonna happen,” Doyoung says, relishing in the feel of Kun’s arms travelling up his back once he kisses him.

“Yuta kind of ruined all of Taeyong’s potential chances last night though,” Kun hums, Doyoung is pretty pissed that he’s still willing to talk and he doesn’t like competing for attention and that itself overrides his love for Kun’s voice when he’s on the verge of moaning like he’s almost doing right now, as Doyoung nibbles lightly on his neck.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. They were happily making out last night, if you ask me,” Doyoung swoops up, arms caging Kun’s tiny shoulders but he’s stopped midway on his path to Kun’s lips.

“They were _what_ last night?”

“Kissing. Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“I thought Yuta was making out with some random bloke—was he really kissing Taey—oh my gosh!”

“Yes,” Doyoung rolls his eyes, “he was kissing Taeyohmygosh. Now if we’re done talking about the idiot couple will you please let me fuck you in peace?”

“Nah. We’re done for the morning,” Kun grins sheepishly and Doyoung’s face falls so adorably that Kun has to add, “Okay okay, I’ll blow you in the shower!”

 

 

 

“Care to explain, jackass?” Yuta gnarls, letting go of his pulled collar and his gaze threatening to axe him down. Taeyong honestly thought he hadn’t bitten that deep but the bruises were dark and obviously too many.

Taeyong had been expecting Yuta to figure it out that it was him that he’d made out with but he hadn’t expected Yuta to figure it out _that_ fast _._

He stutters and looks to the side, shuffling his hands, clearly trying to avoid the question and this aggravates Yuta even further.

“You _like_ me, I should’ve known.”

Taeyong is quick to contradict, “Of course not. Who would like _you?”_

The tone of his voice is convincing enough to annul Yuta’s suspicions but he’s not one to back down from an argument. Especially not one with Taeyong.

“Then at least admit that you think I’m hot because now I know you think so,” Yuta crosses his arms, conceited and Taeyong hopes his blush isn’t showing despite best efforts to suppress it.

_“I do not!”_

“Yes you do! Why else would you push your disgusting tongue down my throat, huh?” Yuta argues.

“I—” Taeyong starts but he’s immediately cut off.

“Don’t play innocent, you did this!” Yuta yaps back at him and Taeyong finds it even harder to defend himself when he knows he’s to blame. What Taeyong is going to do next is a no brainer, he doesn’t want Yuta to feel disgusted by him, and clearly he’d crossed a line, he had had his way on impulse. More than that, Taeyong doesn’t want to get punched and has to save the little progress he and Yuta have made in their already doomed ‘relationship’.

So Taeyong chooses to lie.

“I didn’t know it was you, alright!” he exclaims, shutting his eyes tight and hoping Yuta bought his words. When he opens them, Yuta’s face is unclear.

“You...didn’t know?”

“Jeez,” Taeyong says, walking to the wardrobe, searching for something to sling his arm with, “I remember making out with someone last night but I didn’t know it was you.” Taeyong rips a random T-shirt and runs it over his shoulder until it feels comfortable. In truth, he was trying his best not to meet eyes with Yuta, to lessen his chances of getting his lie found out. He’s a natural at acting his way out through things but right now it oddly feels very difficult to do so.

“So,” Taeyong starts, hoping things could finish off here for if they took the argument any further it’d be disastrous for Winwin’s sleep, “I’m sorry I didn’t know I was making out with you because trust me, both you and I know we wouldn’t have if I did.”

Taeyong’s condescension has never irritated Yuta than it does right now.

“I’ll forgive you once you fucking get me a turtleneck. No way as hell am I going to let Joy see me like this,” Yuta says after a prolonged glare and a click of his tongue before Taeyong smugly gets up, feeling satisfied, “Sure sure. Taeyong at your service.”

 _He didn’t know huh..._ Yuta goes over to the open wardrobe to gets some clothes out, finding himself with an excess of thoughts an opinions once Taeyong leaves the room for good.

Yuta isn't really undergoing any direct effects from the kiss or _kisses_ , he should say. If it was some high school party and both of them were drunk leading to them making out as drunk boys often do and if either would've remembered what happened the next morning; they'd be disgusted.

But Yuta can’t say for sure if he really feels disgusted anymore, it's not like he'd made out with a pig. He's kissed better than this, made out with _way_ hotter people and he's sure what possessed him to act that way was only his need to feel de-stressed for a moment but the fact that Taeyong admits he doesn't remember doing any of that is a torrent that winds him back; that reminds him who Taeyong is.

A part of him is mad at Taeyong for having gone to the party as well, because he should have rested instead. Another part of him is embarrassed from the memories. A third and major part of him is disappointed that Taeyong would willingly have made out with _anyone_ and this, Yuta knows, is very hypocritical, since that's exactly what he himself had done but he dismisses it hastily; maybe it was the whole ‘marriage’ thing that had made Yuta think that they had an understanding or something.

They didn't. There is no understanding because they do not like each other.

These few days have been Taeyong taking care of him, from the forced vaccination to saving his life, Yuta can't let shield these things just because he hates him and he’s been trying his best to apprehend these at least even though it’s been hard to think of Taeyong as anything other than that guy who whored around, that guy who was promiscuous as fuck-but he just had to prove it all last night picking a stranger to make out with, and hell, drunkenly seducing the butler merely hours before.

Yuta has known Taeyong for years, he _knows_ what he's like but after Taeyong’s fingers had touched his wrists and he had looked at him with dead apologetic seriousness, it felt like Yuta had come to know a whole new person.

It was wrong of Yuta to think one certain Monday could change everything.

Who Taeyong makes out with is none of his business, Yuta decides, as he sits on the bed staring at a narrow line of light coming in from between the curtain tinting the room warm yellow. It was him last night but it could've been anyone Taeyong would have been with. The last major part of Yuta feels used— _mad_ , he feels like he’s being unreasonable but he also feels he has defined his reasons at the same time.

_I thought Taeyong was better than this._

He shrugs. Taeyong is the kind of person who easily makes you forget that the charm that he keeps insisting he has does actually exist. Yuta’s face has a sour look, bitter words overflowing from his head; _he makes people think he's worth something when he's actually not…_ Yuta had thought he’d be the last one deceived.

He gets up. _My bad, after all._

“Sooooo…you two made out last night," Winwin’s deadpan has Yuta startled.

_Crap. Did he hear everything?_

"…yeah? We sort of…did. Then he disappeared...go brush your teeth,” he quickly adds as he goes to the bathroom to freshen up, turning to Winwin when he begins snickering like he’d won the lottery, “Stop smiling like that Winwin!”

Yuta’s fists clench, knowing this is not the time to be embarrassed. The non bitten areas on his neck tingle. Last night they'd burned from want of teeth against it and Yuta doesn't want to admit they don't feel any different today.

Winwin sits up still wrapped in the blanket, "He disappeared? Then how'd you know?"

"Eyeliner. On his hands to my face. Besides, I yelled the hell out of him right now to find out. What a horny animal and— _why am I telling you this?!”_ Yuta blubbers, rubbing the back of his neck.

"But you still made out with him,” Winwin cheekily finger guns.

_"I didn't know okay! Gimme a break!”_

"Won’t dad,” he sticks his tongue out before diving inside the blanket, giggling as Yuta struggled to find a spot to tickle him.

Two soft knocks on the door send Winwin flying to the bathroom and Yuta panics before answering it.

“Good morning Yuta! You’re up already— _oh my_ _your neck!”_ Taeyong’s mother gasps once Yuta lets the door open for her but his eyes immediately shoot down in heavy embarrassment. _I wasn’t mauled by an animal Mrs Lee ‘twas just your son who has incredibly sharp teeth, have you considered the possibility that he’s from the underworld?_ Yuta wants to say, but he coughs as non-pretentiously he could instead, thinking of his next words.

“I uh, well Taeyong snores so,” he laughs awkwardly before wishing her as well, “Good morning.”

She smiles. It’s warm, familiar and makes Yuta almost forget about the brawl that happened minutes prior.

“Would you mind joining me for breakfast Yuta?” she asks sweetly and Yuta looks around for a scarf or something and shuffles his feet since his mop of bedhair will take a little more than a while to fix. “Ah, don’t worry. I thought we could talk, you look more than fine,” she says.

Yuta feels like there’s acid down his throat now that he realizes the first thing he’s done after meeting Taeyong’s mom after so long is lie to her. Yuta smiles at her with guilt.

“Sure.”

 

 

 

Kun has lectured Yuta enough about proper conversation in their few years of friendship, which Yuta has deliberately refused to listen to but at this moment he feels he should’ve paid attention to at least a word, not knowing how to do away with the awkward walk to a dining hall in the second floor along with Taeyong’s mom.

The last time he’d seen her was when he was twelve. Or maybe six, he’s not clear about the number but he could say for sure his size was tiny enough to constantly sit in her lap just to make Taeyong jealous.

 _Oh right,_ he remembers. Taeyong already resents him because he couldn’t be the best.

_Did it have something to do with his parents as well?_

Mrs Lee is pretty, even in this old age one could tell. Taeyong doesn’t look like her though, Yuta notices. He’s lost in thoughts and before he realizes he should say something, Taeyong’s mother is already holding the door open for him, “In here.”

“O-Oh thank you!” Yuta blabbers, earning a little laugh from her.

“You don’t have to bow, Yuta,” she says and this she follows with a pat on his head, leaving Yuta flushed and embarrassed. The dining hall is empty and they take their seat by the corner, two small chairs arranged on a coffee table with breakfast already served. It looks great and with all the time Yuta has spent here so far, he can complain about the company (Joy being a constant annoyance and Taeyong, obviously) but he can’t really complain about the food since he hasn’t had great food until he’d come here; Kun doesn’t know how to cook that well but he tries bringing tasteless pasta whenever he can for Yuta because he knows if no one feeds him, he’ll be too busy and will practically forget to eat.

Ten minutes of small talk and gushing over how handsome Yuta’s gotten from Taeyong’s mom and blushes of embarrassment from Yuta while he gobbles up breakfast makes him feel already comfortable with her. He likes it, she doesn’t press on about his apparent relationship with Taeyong, a sharp contrast to yesterday’s ordeal of Joy making lewd insinuations every two seconds. Taeyong’s mother tells him she had helped with the decoration of this room and Yuta looks around for something to compliment.

“Those paintings are really awesome,” he says and then bites his fork because he was dazed by the artwork.

“Splendid, aren’t they?” she smiles proudly, “Taeyong made them but don’t tell him I took them from his gallery.”

Yuta’s head turns back to the wall, staring at the intricacy and detail and just how realistic all the paintings were. He feels mad at Taeyong yet again. _Why the fuck does he have an inferiority complex when he’s that good? Is he crazy? I think his paintings are great and I can’t even understand art!_

“Funny how he didn’t notice you taking them,” Yuta comments because well, he has to say _something_.

“He’s always busy with a new project every week, if he’s doing something new, he’ll forget about everything else,” she informs him and there’s a fond smile from her which has him wondering if his own mom ever smiled like that about him. Yuta nods calmly and sips his tea. He doesn’t care enough to remember anymore.

“I didn’t see Mr Lee around, won’t he be joining us?” Yuta asks, blinking at her.

He regrets the question the moment her face saddens and lips open.

“He passed away a long time ago—”

“I’M SO SORRY I DIDN’T KNOW!” Yuta freaks out, flailing and constantly apologizing.

“No no, we’re sorry Yuta,” Taeyong’s mother murmurs her voice turning remorseful yet determined it seems, leaving Yuta confused. She continues, looking down at her hands which had begun to wrinkle.

“We didn't realize earlier that our idiot son chose to go to the same school as you and never told us until now. We searched for you when we could but things were difficult without my husband. I’m so glad you’re all fine after so long, neither of your parents wanted to talk about you…I was so worried.”

Yuta, shocked by the words sputters for a moment. The fact that someone other than Kun could be worried about him in his life wasn’t that easy to digest. Frankly, he’s moved but he feels even worse for her, considering Taeyong probably hadn’t been the best son all this while, causing trouble all the time.

“I’m alright, Mrs Lee,” Yuta tells her for comfort, adding his smile which brings ten shades of happiness right back to her face. He can still see little grief from revisiting the tragic memories but he also watches it lessen as her smile broadens. He wants to kick himself as well, running away from everything seemed like the best option all those years back but he hadn’t known that he would have—

“Auntie!” Joy barges into the room, startling both of them and also the tea out of their tea cups.

“Mornin’,” Yuta says, mouth full of omurice. Joy shoots him an inquisitive look before turning to Taeyong’s mother.

“Taeyong’s asking for you, he busted his arm or something,” she tells her. Taeyong’s mom immediately gets up and Yuta sports his thinking face.

 _Busted his arm? He seemed pretty alright—_ the food goes partly down the wrong pipe once he remembers that _he_ was the one that had relentlessly crunched Taeyong’s arm. Yuta chokes and reaches for water, taking it all down in one swig and it has Joy and Mrs Lee freaking out but Joy, the ever helpful, ends all his discomfort with a karate chop to his back.

“Better?” she asks, once Yuta stops choking.

“Yup…” he raises a weak thumbs up, “You nearly killed me.”

“Be careful when you eat Yuta…” Taeyong’s mom starts but Joy snorts when Yuta tells her he’s alright.

“He reacted that way because his boyfriend’s hurt himself,” she snickers and then to Yuta she says, “Don’t worry auntie will fix him up in no time, meanwhile let’s hang out for a while!”

“But I haven’t finished my breakfast—”

“You can do that later. See ya at the gymnasium auntie~” are the last words she says before dragging Yuta by sheer force out of the room and presumably to the gymnasium as Yuta thinks so.

 _Wait a minute,_ Yuta thinks, _gymnasium_?

 

 

 

“You guys really went at it like animals last night huh?” Joy _has_ to say and Yuta feeling helpless, does nothing but nod throughout the one sided silence on their way.

Joy begins to rant about some sports event or whatever Yuta didn’t hear the end or the middle of it, his heart quickening in pace and something shifting because after the conversation he’d had over breakfast, his mind is gaining a different sort of clearance.

It feels like for the first time he’s able to understand Taeyong.

Having lost his father..with an ever present need to self depreciate and not to mention the amount of flings..all those fights they picked with each other and that aura of false confidence…Yuta doesn’t really pay attention to people and their mannerisms but he can put two and two together and say with certainty that Taeyong was grieved and frustrated.

And Yuta has a feeling that is something Taeyong hadn’t gotten out of yet.

Yuta’s face falls. _Does he ever think about himself?_ he wonders.

Joy snaps her fingers before his eyes, “You okay? What’s got you spacing out?”

“I’m…fine. It was nothing,” and they walk along the shaded path running amidst the farmland not far away from the main building. He spots a greenhouse and incredible acreage with horses running here and there, not to mention tiny houses built in the traditional style which Joy tells him are for the older relatives. The gymnasium is a sharp turn away from all the visually enticing scenery of the straight path ahead, making Yuta pout a little since he is supposed to be mad at the fact that he’s being kept here against his will. He’s also gotta go home fast and fix his landlady’s washing machine or he’ll be overcharged rent if he doesn’t before the deadline.

“Not going to blame you for getting dazed but we’re here,” Joy says, bending down a bit to pointedly look at Yuta.

“I wasn’t dazed and why are we here?” he says, pretty salty about how he didn’t get to look at some sweet tall windmills on the spread out grass way over there.

“I told you there was a sports event! I need to win, weren’t you listening?” Joy shouts, hands fisted in alacrity and Yuta yawns.

“Good luck then…” Yuta says and he can hear many feet running inside the gymnasium and possibly the thwack of—basketballs or something, he guesses. He doesn’t opine about the event or even Joy’s hunger for victory, he remembers clearly how she’s always been competitive. He wonders if Taeyong got Winwin some breakfast or he forgot about it though Kun had been nice enough to drop off some packets of seaweed before getting kicked out for winking a bit too much at his son…then he wonders if Taeyong’s arm is okay. Yuta is pretty drowsy and weighted with thoughts so he doesn’t really react until two seconds after he realizes Joy has already dragged him inside the gymnasium.

“Why am _I_ here Joy?!” he struggles out of her grasp.

“You’re here because _you’re_ gonna help me win,” she says and that wicked smile that she has tells Yuta that she’s oh very serious.

At this point, Yuta is done. Absolutely done with all the debacles and shenaninganry that life is throwing at it so he’s gonna bear this out and go with the flow. There may as well be space dust raining but he doesn’t. fucking. care anymore.

_Zen._

“Alright. Whatever you want Joy,” he complies and Joy fist bumps him way too aggressively before yelling at her fiancé to get Yuta some running shoes and clothes for a bit.

He ends up staring for long without realizing as she approaches her tall fiancé, for Yuta has never seen her look so happy. That too over a simple conversation that probably has nothing to do with romance or the like.

Yuta can’t believe she’s engaged but at the same time he can’t believe that she’d ever not be engaged, he’s barely met her fiancé, but for some reason it feels like the guy fits in his memories of Joy. Like he’d always been there with her.

He shakes his head, his delusion that marriages all never last is slowly dissolving away against his will. His own parents’ marriage was doomed, someone always goes away too soon like Taeyong’s parents’ and sometimes it’s just not meant to be—like his and Taeyong’s apparent future family. Seeing Joy with her fiancé only makes Yuta want to wish her the best. _At least someone’s going to be happy._

As for him and his presumably doomed future relationship…there hangs a ‘what if.’

And lately, everything seems to bring him closer to that ‘what if.’

 

 

 

“You should be more careful, this is the last time I’m going to tell you this,” Taeyong’s mother tightens a proper sling to get Taeyong’s arm the required restriction before they can arrange for a proper examination. Taeyong groans, pretty restless since who knows what weird breakfast his cousins might have already made in the absence of him.

“Yes mom…” he croaks out.

“I don’t think you’ve broken a bone even though that’s what it looks like but don’t move around too much, okay?”

“Won’t,” he tells her and then flops off the bed, “Now I can go cook—”

“What did I just tell you Taeyong? Go sleep,” she says, while her son pouts and pulls the covers with one hand over himself. She reaches out to stroke his head once he closes his eyes, but she’s taken aback when he makes a face as if he’s about to burst into tears before reverting back to normal.

“I’m sorry, mom. Yuta and I—”

“Aren’t really dating? I already knew,” she interrupts and Taeyong mouth falls agape. She is his mom after all, she would undoubtedly come to know, so Taeyong’s surprise is short lived. Mrs Lee had noticed a look on his face when he was with Yuta; insurmountable happiness only to be overcome by the torrent of sadness following shortly. It was then that she knew.

“It’s…we ended up here by accident,” Taeyong says, ‘accident’ sounding a lot like ‘fate.’

She gives him a grim look, he’s seen this disappointed face of hers so many times but yet hasn’t gotten used to it let alone all the terrible feelings of guilt and remorse that it brings along with it.

“I don’t know what to say son.” Another line he’d heard way too many times.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, sincerely.

She leans back in her seat, crossing her arms and Taeyong anticipates her to get mad and start yelling but she huffs and gets up, pointing the table across the bed, “I put your breakfast on the table, Yuta’s probably in the gymnasium and try going for at least a year without an injury. Or a fake relationship just to fool me.”

“Yes…”

She turns back before reaching for the door, “Have you told him about the will?”

Taeyong flinches, “I’m _planning_ to.”

“Don’t give me excuses,” she commanded. Taeyong gulps.

“It’s not easy to get to that topic mom! You need to understand because—”

“—because you don’t want him to think that’s all you want him for, right?” she cuts in and leaves before Taeyong can manage to reply.

He finds himself unable to constitute words to respond to that even after twenty minutes pass. No words come in his head, he’s unable to contradict his mother’s words. His only business with Yuta should be the will, pass down the damn company to him but Taeyong doesn’t want that to happen just yet. He wants, so desperately wants to buy himself more time before he lets Yuta know and they go their separate ways with no reason to speak anymore.

He doesn’t want Yuta to think he hates him because he was jealous. Well, he _was_ jealous but Taeyong knew it was his own incompetence that made him take his frustration out on Yuta, he just wanted to ruin something in Yuta’s seemingly perfect life and now…

Now Taeyong feels like he’d been the worst spear to someone who has already had too many battle scars.

Taeyong is well aware that Yuta has his own dreams, he has to yet get his doctorate and then walk on the path he’s already decided for himself. Therefore, bringing in the Lee Enterprises would divert him because unlike Taeyong, he’s got a greater sense of responsibility. It also worries Taeyong that there was always a possibility that he might turn it down. Despite not wanting to, Taeyong had to try and convince him…for his mother’s sake.

 _Speaking of Yuta…_ Taeyong looks at the clock striking nine.

_Oh right. The gymnasium._

Taeyong gets up frantically, pulling a jacket to cover his arm and avoid questions. Taeyong opens the bathroom door to see Winwin engrossed in an anime and Kun’s neat handwriting on a piece of paper on his lap; Kun probably gave him a list to watch. The nest of pillows blankets and stuff toys which Taeyong had borrowed from his cousins looked ridiculously adorable but he had no time to gush over his cute son.

“Breakfast’s on the table, Winwin. I’m going out for a bit.”

“But Pops—”

The door slams shut.

 

 

 

The long distance to the gymnasium nearly takes all the life out of him and Taeyong looks around for Yuta. Now that his arm’s all fixed up he still can make an excuse and get out here—just like Yuta wanted to. There aren’t many family members scattered on the bleachers and it’s not difficult to figure out that the fried-noodle-headed future husband of his wasn’t sitting amongst them.

“Taeyong!” Kun waves from his seat much to Doyoung’s chagrin. Taeyong does a quick jumpie over the seats to reach beside them. Doyoung, Kun realises, has been very clingy since the morning (it’s just one of his moods) and he promptly slams a palm over his face.

“Why are you covering Doyoung’s face?” Taeyong inquires; they’re at the very front to the right and there’s a volleyball match set just about to get over. It’s not Taeyong’s favourite sport, so he’s not gonna bother watching.

“Because he’s glaring at you,” Kun replies.

“That’s the usual…” Taeyong sighs, still restlessly craning his head and looking around, “Have you seen Yuta?”

His question falls to deaf ears as Kun stuffs onigiri from the Tupperware on his lap right into his and Doyoung’s mouth right at the moment Taeyong asks them. Taeyong inspects their awkward looks. _I see…they’re not telling me where he is._

“Cut the crap guys. Where is he?”

Kun doesn’t pay attention and continues to talk with his mouth full, “Taeyong why don’t you just shut up and sit here instead of searching because it’s going to get hot from now onwards.”

Taeyong looks outside from the open door on the far left. One game just got over and the other was about to begin. The weather seemed pleasant and all the air conditioners inside were working which leaves him confused enough to question, “I don’t see how volleyball could—”

Kun grabs his chin and turns his head forward right when the whistle blows and whence Taeyong forgets to blink, breath, _think_ even because _Yuta_ walks up to the net for the next match, in cute athletic shorts and _kneepads_ to accentuate thick thighs that could kill a mosquito if flexed and Taeyong freezes in his seat with pupils dilated enough to creep someone out.

“Shit,” he blurts.

“Shit indeed,” Kun acquiesces.

Yuta does a few warm-ups jumps, he’d seen Taeyong hop into the seat beside Kun and he couldn’t help but notice how the idiot was hiding his arm under a jacket that too in this kind of heat. He has no intention to play but he’s willing to go all out for a childhood friend so he prioritizes focusing on what kind of moves Joy had shown him two seconds ago for the match rather than worrying about Taeyong’s injured sorry ass.

“Cheer up!” Joy hits him and it’s forceful enough to make Yuta turn in the direction where Kun, Doyoung and Taeyong were sitting. He gives the couple a teethy smile but when Yuta looks into Taeyong’s eyes, they are already fixed on him.

For once, Yuta doesn’t abruptly turn away, he looks at him for six good seconds before he manages to tear his eyes off Taeyong’s face and stands in position.

Taeyong leans or rather falls backwards as if overcome by something and Kun gives him the ‘you alright there weirdo?’ look only to find him breathing heavily.

For Taeyong, vision blurs everything except Yuta, the intimacy of a gaze— _one fucking eye contact_ has him feeling sick enough to immediately get up to leave.

_Shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapter alternatively titled: _how taeyong unlocks his yuta kink_  
>  apologies for the long time i took! this is the only fic i rewrite way too many times, it stresses me out. have a lovely day and hope you liked this! thank you for 500+ kudos that motivates me to be faster with updates uwu comments are welcome~  
> [tumblr](http://oikawagon.tumblr.com/ask)


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> neo got my back so here’s a suuuper long chapter. none of the parts from the original draft are on this except the party. i basically wrote every scene anew ~~what is wrong with me~~  
>  for diana, happy birthday in advance! ~~because i won’t be around during that time ;_;~~  
>  enjoy my little lovehatefest~

Despite how flashy of an entrance Taeyong usually prefers to make, when he leaves the gymnasium, he goes more or less unnoticed. Gangly limbs trot towards the open door, he knows Kun and Doyoung are engrossed in the game and he’d rather not interfere with his shameless ogling of Yuta in between. His head stings, if not any more than his arm does and it’d be nice to have someone to talk about this whole _‘I have committed the crime of disappointing everyone and my son before he was even born’_ thing but somehow all the bad luck in the world seems to have accumulated around him for the only person who he could possibly talk with about this, is Yuta of all people.

And he can’t face him with-with whatever the weird crumpling of his stomach and temporarily arrhythmic heart were trying to tell his head when their eyes met briefly a while ago.

Taeyong has an idea of what he’s feeling. He also knows this is not where it’s supposed to go, no matter how many prospects to fixing things it would open up if it _did_ go this way.

Five minutes further into the game and the teams take a time out. That’s when Kun notices that Yuta is chugging enough water to drown a person down his throat and Taeyong is taking too little steps to reach the exit.

“Does he expect someone to pursue him or...?” he muses out loud, looking at Taeyong’s back which has now been reduced to a mere thin stick against the backdrop of the bright open door, luminescent in the afternoon light. One could possibly fathom frying eggs in the heat outdoors.

“Nah he looks genuinely distressed,” Doyoung worries, looking in his direction too. He is not sure if Taeyong would tell him since their ‘friendship’ was one of few words and more drinks. Doyoung’s not sure if Taeyong even considers him a friend, he’s never ventured into the personal while speaking to him, Doyoung thinks that’s an area he doesn’t tread, opting to evade it entirely.

“You’re being stupid,” Kun snorts and that somehow doesn’t get his attention away from the impending issue of a walking tsunami of hormones that is Lee Taeyong.

Doyoung gets up, “I think I should go talk to him—”

“Nope. Don’t even think about it. If he’s really that troubled, _he’ll_ talk to you. Let him sort his own shit,” Kun says, looking back at the exit and seeing that Taeyong has now left. Doyoung nods and sits back down. “Besides, his problem is _Yuta_ of all people you won’t be of much help,” he adds with a gesture of his hand.

Doyoung blinks, “Then you go talk to him.”

“What?” Kun grunts before cracking open a peanut and feeding Doyoung, who swallows it without chewing in a hurry to speak.

“You know Yuta better than I do. So you go talk to him.”

Kun can’t believe he has to deal with Yuta and Taeyong’s combined shenaniganry and he is in no position to favour discussing their _individual_ shenaniganry because he is totally not helping them and their great shitty walls of denial—

_“Please?”_

Kun has few options when Doyoung’s requesting him to do things. But when he’s acting like a pleading puppy then he’s got none. Still, he gets up. It’s about time either of them figured out what they mean to each other. Kun believes he should sort this out as fast as possible and get back to Doyoung to cuddle all his annoyance away. Sounds easy in his head.

Almost too easy.

But once Kun drops down the last step off the exit, to his right is Lee Taeyong on a swing, breathing harshly, biting his lips as if to restrain pain or tears or maybe both and it’s oddly familiar to Kun. He can never forget how Yuta looks each time he has a mental breakdown, having seen it too often.

Taeyong is leaning back and forth, senses closed to things around him, eyes replaying everything from now to back when he and Yuta first met.

_I ruined him. No, I destroyed him—I need to get him back and Winwin—where does Winwin fit in all of this? How does he fit in all of this I don’t understand and I know I’m over thinking but—_

“Hey,” Kun kicks a pebble in front of him and it shuts the voices in Taeyong’s head down. He doesn’t say anything, he needs to make himself realise that no amount of forgiveness is going to break him out of this cycle. He’s earned Yuta’s spite and hatred and he’s going to have to numb his heart down so that it stops making him think that he’s developing...

Taeyong notices not how Kun had casually sat beside him on the next swing until it creaks harshly and when he speaks louder than his thoughts, “Bad time to realise feelings eh?”

Their swings move in the opposite, Taeyong says nothing but the pace of his swing matches Kun’s, which Kun takes as an indication that he does have something to say but doesn’t deign to reply.

Kun winces. _This isn’t going to work at this rate._ “You’re not disagreeing with me? That’s new,” he taunts in tone twisted enough to warrant a reaction.

Taeyong grumbles, “If you’ve come to laugh at me, you’ve got sixty seconds to do that and leave.”

“Well sorry to say, I can’t,” Kun leans back, fingers tight around the swing, “Doyoung wanted me to talk to you.”

“Thanks...but it’s not going to be of much help—fuck I don’t even...” Taeyong ends with an exasperated groan. Kun doesn’t take umbrage to his brusque response.

“Who said I’d come to help? There’s clearly _nothing_ to help with,” he responds ruefully in hopes that it will probably prompt Taeyong to leave or start opening up. _There’s no other way but to coerce things out of a dour oversized baby on a swing,_ he decides. “I’ve come to talk. Not help, lemme repeat. So talk.”

 “I’m not in the mood for chitchat Kun...what do you even want me to say to you?”

“Well for starters, I’d like you to admit that you like Yuta.”

“I’m not doing that.”

Kun gives him a prolonged blank stare before flailing his arms in frustration, “Why is it so hard for that little head of yours to say that you like Yuta?”

“Because I don’t?” Taeyong answers promptly, though his heart shouldn’t beat so much while confessing that he, in fact doesn’t like Yuta.

Kun makes a garbled noise, “Here we go again; you two made out last night  and I would’ve expected some development like everybody who’s reading about you two pieces of shit but you’re deliberately rolling back to square one of _‘I totally don’t like him’_ which in my opinion translates to _you totally fucking do!_ Just accept it!”

“So what,” Taeyong repudiates, “Yuta’s never going to like me.”

“Normal like, doesn’t always have to come before the ‘like’ like yanno,” and Kun swings a large step back.

“Not helping, like I said.”

“I’m not here to help, like I said.”

Taeyong holds his head in his hands, “Just go.”

“I will, if you promise to tell Yuta how you feel.” Taeyong wants to slam his face on the ground underneath him.

“The only thing I feel towards him is guilt and—” Taeyong stops himself before he goes onto say that he feels committed to ensuring that Yuta’s dad gets his ass kicked by the law so that Yuta’s safe and living normally again, that now he’s realised that what he felt wasn’t envy but fear instead.

He can’t admit these things in his head, let alone say it. It’s still hard for him.

“...and love. Disgusting kissy mushy love,” Kun humours. Taeyong glares blearily at his grinning face.

“Kun,” he starts, “you’re making me say this: Yuta _hates_ my guts. The only thing I can expect from him is a punch on the face the next time we talk.”

“Really,” Kun says, disbelief overriding the inquisitiveness in his question.

Taeyong, growing more irate by the minute, speaks louder than he has this week, “Where were you all these years, you know _exactly_ how our relationship is. Or at least, his side of the story. Like, I’ve hurt him, we’ve fought, I’ve said some things—well a lot of things I didn’t mean and I’ve felt like utter shit ever since Winwin showed up because nothing adds up okay?!”

Kun stares ahead silently despite looking one word away from an aneurism. Taeyong takes deep whiffs of air, he’s not sure why his head is lighter and heavier in such quick moments of continuation but it must be the painkillers.

Kun slowly turns in Taeyong’s direction, their swings have stopped moving, warm afternoon breeze makes the grass rustle and scatters the fallen leaves.

“Yuta hates you,” Kun enunciates, Taeyong can’t tell what he means by restating something he’s been trying to tell him already.

“Well _yeah,_ that’s what I’ve been saying—”

Taeyong does not see the punch coming.

He feels Kun’s fist collide with his jaw, it’s isn’t a fairly strong one but he’s sure Kun held back on purpose. He’s immediately yanked by the collar so that they’re eye to eye, with enough force to rip the fabric apart. If not anything, Taeyong’s definitely feeling the painkillers now.

His jaw, head, and arm hurt now and he’s met with Kun’s furious face, threatening him with gritted teeth, “I won’t hit you again but I’m not gonna go easy on you once you recover, fair warning.”

Taeyong shakily lets out a breath; his tooth hurts but he’s too weak to struggle with Kun’s thumb digging into his neck almost harsh enough to bleed by the nail.

 _“You,”_ Kun begins and Taeyong dares not to do anything but listen, “don’t go acting like you’ve got the _slightest idea_ about what Yuta thinks or what he is because you fucking don’t, Taeyong. You know _nothing.”_ Taeyong gulps, wanting to wipe all the sweat dripping down his face but Kun looks angry enough to punch him if he moves so he’ll pretend, for the sake of his mysophobic heart, that he’s good.

“Yuta’s dad comes to beat the hell out of him every month and he refrains from letting me interfere because he thinks it’s his own fault. You hear me? _His._ That’s what he thinks. Yuta thinks he’s the one who’s responsible somehow; that if it’s his fault that his father is frustrated, he’ll take all the hits he can. He still tried contacting his mother when she was alive because some days he thought _he_ was the reason why she left. Yuta was straight up abandoned, framed as a publicity device, got media perpetuated rumours going on about him that have practically ruined his life because people took them as facts-all _because of his parents_ and you know what? _Yuta doesn’t hate them.”_

No sound or breath leaves Taeyong’s lips.

“So if you’re going to whine,” Kun finally leaves Taeyong’s collar, letting him drop weak, hanging onto the swing, “and say that Yuta _hates_ you or will never forgive you for something so trivial like childish fighting, you’ve got some guts to say shit about my best friend to my face. Don’t gimme that crap.”

Taeyong keeps looking down, then his breathing turns even more ragged when he starts sobbing. Kun groans.

“Sorry, I punched you too hard and stop crying dammit! Here wipe your nose,” Kun hands him a tissue and Taeyong accepts it quietly mumbling, “It’s okay.” _I deserved it._

“Honestly,” Kun says a few moments after Taeyong calms down, “If Yuta really hated you, why would he still be by your side?”

Taeyong is about to repudiate yet again by saying something like ‘that’s just figuratively speaking’ as he walk over to the taps to wash his face but the universe contradicts him before Kun could.

Yuta runs out of the gymnasium, breathless and panting, “What the hell happened to you.”

Taeyong stares, wide eyed enough to know that Kun is smirking from the corner. His t-shirt is soggy with sweat, his hair a frizzy mess, arms red where the ball hit too many times and Yuta has that look of worry on his face just for a moment before it’s gone.

“I...um...”

“He’s crying because you lost,” Kun fills in very helpfully, putting a fake sympathetic arm on Yuta’s shoulder. Yuta turns to pull his cheek.

“Shut your trap, we won. Plus how would he know, he didn’t even watch the game,” and for some reason he sounds mildly annoyed at that fact. Not sparing Taeyong a second glance, he says, “I’ve basketball next, we’ll see how that goes.”

Kun snickers, “Can’t miss you royally screwing that up now,” and skedaddles back inside bending himself enough to break his back just to avoid Yuta’s offended slap. He stops when Taeyong calls out to him, “Kun.”

“What.”

Taeyong purses his lips, “You’re a good friend.” Yuta, crosses his arms and gives Taeyong a raised eyebrow.

Kun waves it off, “I’m totally not your friend, but you owe me.” With that he leaves them outside the gymnasium and Taeyong finally turns to Yuta, having nothing but garbled noises as words in his head so he does the smart thing and doesn’t speak. Thankfully, Yuta is talkative and does the conversation starting job for him.

“You look disgusting and—why don’t you have a cast?”

Taeyong raises his arm smoothly, “Don’t need one, see? I’m all goo— _ow! fuck fuck fuck it hurts.”_

Yuta sighs, looking unimpressed before whacking him lightly on the head. “Stupid,” comes out sounding too fond.

“Gee thanks”

“Think you can walk back?”

“I can but it just hurts like a bitch.”

Yuta drops to his knees and bends, “Hop on, I’ll carry you.”

“...”

“I’m not giving you an opportunity to stare at my butt.”

Taeyong flushes, _“I’m not staring!_ And you said you had basketball, right?”

“I’m terrible at basketball anyways,” Yuta replies, leaving Taeyong astounded.

“So there _are_ things you’re bad at. Interesting,” is what he says as he gets on Yuta’s firm back and is comfortably carried away from the gymnasium.

“Shut up or I’ll drop you.”

 

 

 

“I lost. Because of you.”

The entirety of Taeyong’s family or ‘the Lee clan and friends’ as Yuta has dubbed it, (having stayed here making up for the lack of socialisation in the life he’s lived so far, he feels secure in his amateur skills enough to come up with a tacky name for it) are now enjoying a picnic right outside the gymnasium after the family sports event finally comes to an end with boxing, won surprisingly by Taeyong’s uncle Jaejoong. Yuta would rather indulge in some conversation with Taeyong’s mother, but Joy, extremely salty about having that first position being taken away from her, hogs most of the picnic mat area after having dragged them both in the corner, _to quibble._

“You lost. And you lost because of yourself. Get over it,” is the only thing Yuta says, his eyesight lingering on the tables where others were helping with the cooking and his intuition told him that’s where Taeyong was going to be around.

“I refuse to,” Joy says and sticks her nose up.

“There wasn’t even a reward, Joy,” Yuta groans but Joy is beyond convincing.

“Praise is a reward in itself.”

Yuta puts his hand on her shoulder blade and pats, “Oh okay. Congratulations on losing miserably.”

Joy sneers vengefully, “I will mix vinegar in your soda,” and Yuta laughs heartily at how serious she seems.

Sniffing up the aroma of delicious food being cooked, they sit in anticipation, thankfully chatting about things other than the sports event. Joy keeps touching Yuta’s hair and Yuta lets her entertain herself while he gazes over the tables at a restless Taeyong. His eyebrows draw closer.

_Why didn’t he tell me his dad had died?_

That couldn’t have happened before all their intense fist-fights. To Yuta it makes no sense why Taeyong couldn’t walk up to Yuta and tell him. Grief, maybe one thing and is unarguably the conclusion Yuta wants to settle at but Taeyong wouldn’t be ready to jump at his throat the very same week if that was the real case. Or maybe Yuta is miscalculating the time sequences.

Whatever it is, Yuta knows close to nothing about what it feels like to have lost a family member, so he can’t and won’t say anything about it.

However, he can’t help but feel like it’s something he should know, despite acknowledging that it’s definitely not. He squints his eyes at Taeyong who, completely unaware of Yuta’s continuous staring is woefully stealing lettuce from the salad and munching on it.

“What’s so funny?” Joy asks and Yuta points her to their left.

“Look over there, Taeyong’s literally fidgeting cause he wants to cooks so badly but he can’t,” Yuta answers her, chuckling a little because well, it is quite funny. He also fails to understand why Joy doesn’t laugh with him, instead she brings her chin over her knees and gives him a fond smile.

“Honestly I think it was pretty sweet that he came to watch you play, with his arm and everything,” she tells him.

“That’s called stupidity,” Yuta corrects her, swatting some bugs away, “I took him to his mom and she said it’ll just worsen if he continues moving around too much. Besides, he missed almost all the matches so what’s the point.”

Joy pauses for so long after that Yuta feels the need to snap his fingers over her eyes to check if she’s okay but she tackles him to the ground till they’re almost about to slide out of the picnic mat or maybe Yuta is about to shove her on the grass because she’s aggressively cuddling him.

“You’re _pining_ I never thought I’d see the day!” she exclaims thankfully and tightens the hug.

Yuta tries to slip away, “Get off of me you reek of sweat!”

“So do you!” she says while smushing her cheek to Yuta’s, “can’t you just let me be happy for you? Taeyong’s a great guy, you’re a great guy. It’s a great guy love.”

“I’m astounded by your word association,” Yuta grumbles once she lets go of him and they’re both vertical again. Over some district level playboy who might have insane art talent and an appreciable appearance and owns really comfortable clothes? Yuta’s not _pining_ , he’s got more class than that.

He picks up his soda, lost in thoughts and then spits his sip of it out the moment it burns his tongue, “When did you put vinegar in this— _Joy, you are so dead.”_

With that begins the chase of one Joy running around trying to escape Yuta who just grabbed a bowl of cream from the nearest picnic table. Taeyong watches the two with amusement, they’re running around a short apple tree in circles; Yuta deliberately failing to catch her because she’s too fast. It ends with Joy climbing the tree and a Yuta that is exhausted to do the same but still sits under anyways pretending to be asleep, with one eye open.

Taeyong stops laughing at the scene once Doyoung sits down beside him with a box full of oranges, “I’m supposed to peel these but you can eat one,” he says as he pulls out one and deftly peels it.

“Thanks,” Taeyong says with a mouthful of orange before turning to him unemotionally, “Kun says I’m whipped.”

Doyoung doesn’t bother looking up from the box, “You’ve been whipped since the day you brought him to my cafe; tell me something I don’t already know.”

 

 

 

With lunchtime having ended, Yuta grabs some of the leftovers in containers for Winwin in two plastic bags on each arm; he usually carries one but it’s not like Taeyong would be able to carry his part because of his arm.

He hums, weird how they’d never talked about this agreement but have still cooperated enough to get food for Winwin every day; they hadn’t even realised they’d delved into a comfortable routine.

He looks ahead and catches Taeyong mid hallway and also holding leftovers in his left hand. If Yuta feels annoyed at that obvious disobedience of his mother’s instructions but he shuts his mouth about it.

Ever since whatever happened at the gymnasium, they’ve been awfully quiet.

Yuta clicks the door open and stomps inside, Taeyong locks it quietly behind him after putting the packages on the side table.

“Winwin I got food,” Yuta says, loud enough for Winwin to hear since the boy was in the bathroom. On no response from Winwin he shrugs, places the plastics on the table and digs up the drawer for clothes because he really needs a warm shower after all of this afternoon’s strenuous muscle activity. His back sort of hurts.

Taeyong calls Winwin as well, going over and raising a fist before the bathroom door but deciding to knock only after he’s confirmed Winwin’s inside.

“Winwin! Winwin?”

Yuta doesn’t pay attention, too busy finding a shirt of Taeyong’s that didn’t have a metal band logo on it or didn’t look remotely embarrassing like a pink pyjama shirt-Taeyong’s wardrobe had no in betweens.

Taeyong taps his shoulder and Yuta shivers from where Taeyong’s breath fans over his when he turns around, his _“What?”_ coming out breathless and not as agitated as he’d wanted to make it sound.

Great. Now Yuta is suddenly embarrassed because he sounded downright weird.

Taeyong, Yuta thanks the heavens, is a huge unobservant idiot so he notices close to nothing but maybe it’s because—

“ _Winwin is snogging someone in the bathtub,”_ Taeyong says in one breath and Yuta could’ve sworn he didn’t hear that because he voice was too damn soft.

And _deep_ , but that’s not an adjective Yuta wants to think about.

“What? Who!” Yuta whisper shouts back. Taeyong and he are standing secret agent level close and now that they’re discussing something like that, he wouldn’t like to yell at his face despite how shocked he is. So Yuta does the smart thing and takes a step back. The room’s all orange and sultry and as much as they’d like to just fall asleep, they both sigh at this new debacle to deal with.

“His boyfriend maybe. I dunno,” Taeyong crosses his arms lightly, hopping onto the bed, because he’s tired and if Winwin wants to snog someone his painful brain doesn’t want to deal with it.

Yuta runs a palm down his face, “I don’t think he’s making out. You probably heard something—”

Eyes widen simultaneously at loud and obscene noises resonating from the bathroom. Yuta’s hands drop to his sides while Taeyong springs up on the bed because suspicious noise levels had gone beyond suspicious and there were _certainly_ two people kissing and _-was that a moan dear lord,_ he thinks he isn’t old enough for this or maybe if he is then he’s mentally not qualified to be.

Taeyong and Yuta share a glance.

“He can’t just come here and make out!” Yuta whispers out because this is ridiculous. Not that he should be surprised.

“Well, you tell them that,” Taeyong nimbly adds.

“I think that’s your responsibility too...?”

“I don’t want to step in there again, somebody had his shirt off.”

“And I’ve seen enough shirtless people since yesterday— _I’m done,_ you deal with it.”

Taeyong scrunches up his face and gets up, a pinch in brows as he reluctantly says, “Alright. But at least stand beside me so that I don’t seem like a complete creep going in for a second peek.”

“Oh hell no I’m not—”

Yuta is interrupted with a chorused groan and other types of noises which Yuta has no vocabulary to describe but he surely doesn’t want them to intensify further and he looks over to Taeyong who has the same expression as him at that moment.

Both of them kick the bathroom door open, faces stoic while the party inside it scream.

Yuta, trying very hard to sound like Batman or All Might, says, _“It’s PG time kids,”_ and Winwin and his boyfriend look so traumatised that they probably need hospitalisation.

Taeyong walks in with his you’re-in-trouble-runts smile, “He’s not funny. Hi Jaehyun, here’s your shirt.”

 

 

 

Ten minutes and one Jaehyun sent back to the future later, Winwin is seated across his parents on the floor for an _reprimandation_.

Taeyong takes a breath before asking sternly, “I expect you to explain yourself.” Even Yuta gives him a sidelong glance since his parent voice was spine chilling.

Winwin looks terrified and Taeyong and Yuta are having a hard time keeping straight faces instead of cooing over and forgiving him right then and there.

He hiccups, “I missed him.”

Yuta gasps, _“What did you say?”_ which does nothing for Winwin’s frightened expression.

“I said that I missed him?”

“Nonono just repeat what you said, in the exact same way,” Yuta instructs and when Winwin does, Yuta flings himself forward, locking elbows around him, “You are the cutest thing. _Ever.”_  

Winwin tries to pull away, “Dad! That tickles!”

Taeyong looks over at Yuta’s starry eyes thinking _you’re the cute one, idiot_ while giving mental kudos to his future self for literally having the most adorable child known to mutantkind.

Yuta quickly gets back on track after he’s had his fill of cuddling Winwin, “I kind of feel sorry I kicked Jaehyun back to his time; but hey, at least the extra food was put to use. He’s a good guy. Very respectful. You can date him.”

Winwin blinks his inky black eyes, “I was already dating him?”

Taeyong clears his throat, “Look Winwin, I’m glad you’re happy but you can’t invite your boyfriend over to make out if you miss him across time differences.”

“Especially across time differences,” Yuta agrees, standing behind Taeyong’s seated form with crossed arms and Taeyong nods seriously. “He could get lost around in different eras and y’know, maybe never return,” is what he also unhelpfully adds which makes Taeyong facepalm and Winwin get even more teary eyed.

“You didn’t have to go over there Yuta...” he says while his face still planted over with his hand.

Yuta struggles with his words, “Sorry Winwin just, you can miss him but just don’t fuck in the bathroom! It’s weird for us! And also beds are much better I’m sure you know that right?”

Taeyong turns back, aghast, “Now you’re encouraging him to have sex?”

“Hey look who’s talking—y’know one time Winwin there was a university camping trip and Taeyong and this our soccer captain—”

“Don’t listen to him he was sleepwalking at that time.”

“I was sleepwalking? Then what were you doing, sleepfucking?”  

_“He doesn’t wanna know, okay?!”_

Winwin keeps look down making swirls in the bedding with his index finger, nervously and looking like a kid after school who’s waiting for his teacher to answer a question he’s too shy to ask in class. Not that Yuta would ever understand the analogy, he was a friggin’ genius who never had any questions until senior year at college.

“Can I ask you two something?” he says and both of them suddenly feel too enthusiastic to act like proper adults but contain it.

“Sure go ahead,” Taeyong smiles.

Winwin chooses his words carefully or rambles, Yuta can’t tell the difference, “I know this is a weird question but I think I should ask you because I’m sure of...things with Jaehyun and we’re on the topic so—and I’m not sure if I can ask you two in my present I mean the future—”

“Spit it out, you can ask whatever you want,” Yuta says before he takes a pause.

“We’re your parents,” he finishes, making Taeyong’s heart jump on a trampoline.

Winwin gulps and takes a shaky breath, exhaling and ready to question.

“How do guys..have sex?”

There’s a moment of pensive silence after which Taeyong turns to Yuta. He looks away and finds Winwin is staring at him too, waiting for an answer.

“Stop looking at me both you,” Yuta says, red in the face and looking down since the floor is his final refuge.

“Well I’m straight so I don’t know...” Taeyong mumbles which are probably the first logical words from his that means Yuta can’t contradict him. Moreover Taeyong worsens the situation by licking his lips and murmuring, “but I’m curious.”

Now Yuta straight up wants to die.

He bounces to his feet, future husband and future son watching his movements with such hopeful eyes that Yuta has to turn around to say, “Winwin I’ll explain later, you can familiarise yourself with the...” he waves his hand around, “the _basics_ until then. Put google to good use.”

“What’s google?” is what Winwin asks bluntly making Yuta trip and Taeyong burst into a fit of laughter.

“I want to teach physics not sex ed—Taeyong you take it from here!” he runs away, utterly frustrated and while grabbing hold of some random clothing from the wardrobe.

“But I told you I don’t know!”

“ _Then you use google!”_

And the bathroom door slams shut to a very confused father and son.

 

 

 

Though not a fan of long showers, Yuta takes his sweet time cleaning the bathroom before using it and also in bathing itself, scrubbing harshly when he remembers that Winwin and Jaehyun were getting handsy in the very same place.

Yuta sighs, his head droops as he stares at his reflection in the water below. He hates showers for making him think about things more than he should. Things like Taeyong showing up to watch his match, things like how he escapes early morning and is a bed-in breakfast enthusiast, things like how he fucked up his arm to catch Yuta—

He splashes water on his face. _Let’s not go there._

Yuta can’t ask Taeyong’s mom what happened to Taeyong before highschool. He doesn’t know much but he has a feeling his mother doesn’t know much about him either. Taeyong’s not just a closed book, he’s a closed book with a lock and the key swallowed by some sea monster who guards it like some treasure.

And Yuta is unarmed and without gills. If that makes any sense.

Guess he’ll have to let his curiosity die.

_Right. I have to stay here as long as Taeyong’s mom is happy and then I can return to my normal life. I’ll fix my landlady’s washing machine, secure the rent for this month, catch the 8 o’clock train to Professor Joohyun’s lab, do college work, take the bus home, probably see annoying  Taeyong on the way—_

_Oh._

Taeyong had been an element of his daily life that he had refused to acknowledge and now that he does Yuta comes to think that now that one element has brought some drastic changes he’d have to adjust to.

Yuta gets uneasy with the idea of change. He’ll adjust to Winwin because Winwin is an adorable glob of sunshine of a son that dropped from the sky but with Taeyong it’s different.

What they are now is something like friends, aren’t they?

 _Friends don’t make out,_ a tiny part of his brain voices out. He squeezes the sponge mercilessly. _Well done self; college years gone by without dating and I end up horny enough to grind on a guy I shouldn’t like._

Yuta hits his head with the shower faucet.

_Much better._

He stays in longer than fifteen minutes just to make sure that by the time he’s outside, the questions about gay sex will be long forgotten or cleared up by Taeyong. When Yuta does get out, Winwin has some newer clothes on one arm and is flapping some device that looks awfully like a hair straightener in his other. Taeyong doesn’t seem to be around, not that Yuta was searching for him.

 Winwin grins at him and though it’s adorable Yuta can’t help but question, “Isn’t your hair already straight what would you-wait a minute” he realizes and Winwin smiles wider, clipping the straightener and moving closer.

“DON’T YOU DARE!”

“Dad please!! Pops said there’s some party down there tonight!”

_“So?_

“Look good!”

“Like hell I care!”

Qian Kun, who has the worst sense of timing barges in the room screaming, “Yutaaaaaa” and before Yuta can react, Winwin whines, “Uncle dad’s not letting me straighten his hair!”

“That’s because you don’t know how to use it! And my hair is fine!” Yuta says, turning to Kun with a what-do-you-want face only to see that Winwin has used ninjutsu to pass the straightener to Kun.

“Really Yuta? Come up with a better excuse, there’s no saving you.”

 

 

 

The thing about this mansion is the architecture is fucked up. There are large rooms with tiny doorways hidden in the corner which is great for make out spots as Yuta thinks (why he can’t stop thinking about snogging and snog related things even he doesn’t know) but the problem at hand is that there is a hall on every fucking floor.

And nobody told Yuta where he was supposed to go.

“I’m pretty sure he got lost around here, he’s shit at directions,” Kun groans, poking taeyong who is munching on Doritos from the table, “Go get Yuta, I think everybody’s here by now.”

“Donmf mell murf ghwaoodoo.” Taeyong retorts, chewing angrily. Kun looks as if he’s sort of restraining himself from strangling him.

“He says ‘don’t tell me what to do’,” Doyoung translates. By then Taeyong has swallowed his snack and walks out of the hall, wandering across a few empty floors.

_Where is this guy..._

He sees him once he peeps down from the staircase, “Yuta!” and hurriedly climbs up to tell him the party was on the third floor but then the moment he sees his face, or should he say the new hairdo, he stops abruptly in his tracks.

And then shamelessly proceeds to laugh his heart out.

Yuta flips his lid bang up, “Real mature, Taeyong. Real mature.”

Taeyong can’t seem to catch a breath, “I’m sorry you just, you look like number four from codename kids next doo—” he doesn’t even manage to finish his sentence before clutching his sides and laughing again. Yuta gives him a look that holds the threat that he’d shave all his hair sitting on that brainless head of his but then quickly moves over to business.

“Look, as much as you’re finding this absolutely hilarious, just tell me where the room is, I need to talk to your—”

Taeyong interrupts with a loud ugly cackle and Yuta internally says, _that’s it; Yuta out_ and turns around to leave.

“I’m sorry Yuta, wait! it’s right this way and come here for a second.”

 _Thank god he finally shut up, I thought he’d laugh himself to unconsciousness and I’d have to punch him,_  Yuta thinks while he agrees and follows him although annoyed. A few minutes gone and he begins doubting if they’re even going in the right direction.

Taeyong opens a door nearby (random choice as Yuta thinks) and peeps inside to see.  He signs Yuta, ushering him to go in on confirming that it is unoccupied.  

They enter into a small bedroom no less luxurious as the rest, it doesn’t seem like anyone’s been staying in it either. Yuta busies himself with looking around while Taeyong digs the drawers and the magazine shelf.

“This doesn’t look like a dining room...?”

Taeyong leaves his question unanswered, spreading out newspapers on the floor, “Sit here.”

Yuta presses his lips, “I’m not a cat or a motion sickness patient.”

“Well, I’m not going to cut your hair unless you’re sitting on that,” Taeyong pouts but his voice sounds annoyed.

“You’re not cutting my hair. With one hand.”

“Do you want to see or not? Your bangs are literally reaching your nose and maybe they’re poking your eyes...”

Yuta huffs and sits down on the newspapers. Taeyong forgets to blink for a while.

_Wow that worked?_

Slowly Taeyong begins by cutting Yuta super straight long hair from the back since it’s become something of a ridiculous mullet. Yuta doesn’t say anything just breathes noisily as Taeyong’s fingers sometimes touch his neck and forehead. The worst feat comes when Taeyong trims his bangs because he’s right in front and close. Yuta wonders what goes on in his mind, if his father’s death is something he still thinks about.

_Do I pinch him? Do I ask him about his dad—no that would be too much...then do I ask him why he kissed me? But he already told me that he was drunk and didn’t know but—_

He glares at Taeyong. _Was that the truth?_

Taeyong happily snips of the last bits, running his fingers through Yuta’s brown locks even though it was unnecessary. _His hair is so soft,_ he thinks.

“You’re done.”

Yuta is pretty bitter for no reason, getting up, “This better not look—” Taeyong shows him a mirror, “that actually looks nice—how’d you do that?”

“I’m a man of many talents,” he brags while cleaning up the mess of hair and dumping it.

“Yeah yeah,” Yuta begrudgingly says to Taeyong’s back.

Taeyong, who’s trying to find a cloth brush, says, “You should thank me,”  while totally expecting Yuta to have already walked out or have said ‘NO WAY!’ and then walked out. Taeyong turns around to find Yuta still there, scratching the back of his neck and struggling with his lips.

“Thank yo—thanks,” he says and Taeyong probably wouldn’t have heard it if he wasn’t staring at the shape of his lips all the while.

He gulps. Yuta put forward second sincere thank you and maybe they’re getting somewhere but he looks so embarrassed and Taeyong just thinks _shit this is kinda exciting._

And then Yuta runs out the door.

“Yuta, wait! You’ll get lost again!”

 

 

 

Taeyong finally _finally_ catches hold of Yuta and is now escorting him to the party room. The pain in his leg is singing so he deigns it’s his right to complain, “Thanks to you I’m too exhausted for the party.”

Yuta, obviously feeling bad but doesn’t know what to do about because he’s a wreck when it comes to talking to this guy doesn’t know what to say except gibberish.

“Then you don’t have to attend it, you pillock. Honestly how does your family party every single night over here that must be exhausting—”

Taeyong opens the door for him and the room lights up.

Yuta walks in and he sees people, too many people. A few faces he recognizes from his childhood, most are Taeyong’s relatives and then there’s kun, Doyoung and Joy standing at the centre behind a big cake and below a banner that hangs from the ceiling. And they’re all smiling so brightly that it elicits flutters in his chest. They’re standing in a way that they were awaiting his arrival. Yuta’s only begun to read what was on the banner when they all shout unanimously.

“Welcome back Yuta!” and there on the banner it was written the very same words. Yuta’s face crumples up in almost-tears, “Thank you!” he manages to say as loudly as possible as he bows 90 degrees to the applauding group. He hears himself being surrounded by cheers, he gets hugged (and kissed by Joy), Taeyong’s mother helps him cut the cake and feeds it to him and Kun interrupts the moment to say, “We’re all glad to have you back,” and then looks over to the DJ for not playing some badass guitar solo after that.

Yuta looks at all of them with eyes that are withholding tears.

“Thank you so much.”

 

 

 

Joy is squealing, “This cake is so good!” while seated at the table and away from her fiancé, having left him to the dungeon which was the group of Taeyong’s feisty uncles.

“I’m starting to think your fiancé hates me because you keep ignoring him,” Yuta opines, taking a sip of whatever Kun was having and then when he didn’t like it he took Joy’s drink.

She flares her nostrils, “You’re gay.”

Yuta bats his lashes, “Did you tell him that?”

“Shit. I...didn’t?”

“ _That’s_ why,” Yuta pushes her lightly towards him, “Go.”

Kun touches Yuta’s hair and Yuta swats his hand away, “Hmm you are quite handsome when you look like a human being.”

“You left me with miles for bangs,” Yuta accuses, making Kun laugh.

“That I will not deny I did, it was pretty fun.”

Yuta pulls his cheek, flinging him back and forth, _“Jerk,”_ but then he looks through the glass wall separating the hall from the balcony.

Joy comes back to reassume the place on the table, “Fiance situation resolved.” And though Yuta is half tempted to send her back he asks her, “Have you seen Taeyong?”

Yuta leans a bit more to the left to see clearly and the rest do the same.

“I think he’s smoking,” Doyoung observes.

“Definitely smoking—” Kun agrees and on noticing that Yuta’s gotten up with hands balled into fists he chirps, “—oh there he goes.” Yuta walks over to the uninhabited balcony except for one Lee Taeyong, the music dies out once the glass door slides black into place and Taeyong looks at him quizzically but then shrieks when Yuta kicks the box out of his hands.

“HOW DARE YOU SMOKE!”

“I’M NOT SMOKING AND THAT WAS MY CANDY!”

“Candy?”

“Yes candy,” Taeyong picks up the box and turns it so that Yuta can read the label on the package and indeed confirm that it was a gummy worm box.

Yuta sweats.

 

 

 

Both end up sitting on the bench in the balcony, looking blankly at the night sky and chewing gummy worms in silence.

Needless to say, it’s awkward.

 _I’m not lifting my ass off this bench until I get to know exactly what happened,_ Yuta thinks.

 _I’m not getting up until I tell him,_ Taeyong thinks though a tiny other voice inside his head screams _‘tell him what?’_ while the other yells _‘I don’t know!’_ back.

They don’t say a words for neither knows how long so and the party continues indoors, they can see Kun is getting completely plastered with Doyoung trying his best to get him to sober up before dinner and somewhere in the back Joy has gotten on a table to dance and it’s shaking like a grenade before bursting out.

They take a deep breath.

_Why is this so awkward?_

“Do you wanna go inside?” Taeyong braves the silence enough to ask, eyes getting weary.

Yuta doesn’t return the gaze, “No, do you?”

“Nope.”

With that, Taeyong expects more silence but Yuta seems to have caught on on his poor attempt to make small talk; which makes him ask, “Why?”

Taeyong can’t deal with Yuta’s head tilt and _‘hm?’_ so he gulps air down before saying, “It’s nothing.”

The boy beside him swings his legs, Taeyong needn’t point out the difference in how they’re seated, if he started he’d begin pointing differences in everything and then realise that he’s done nothing but scrutinise superficially and in the process he’d forgotten how it was to regard Yuta as anything more than an incendiary enemy.

“You’re a bad liar,” Yuta says, in the same way someone says ‘piss is fluroscent’.

“And what makes you say that?” Taeyong asks in return, bending to face him.

“Well,” Yuta sinks further into his jacket, asking too casually for someone who wants to prove a point with his question, “You like me, don’t you?”

Taeyong swallows his spit in hopes of calming his somersaulting heart, “No.”

“There,” Yuta points, annoyed at the aberration from the truth, “That’s lying.”

“Y’know I’m not going to argue with you because,” _you’re probably right,_ Taeyong keeps it in, “just-just because.”

“If you like me, just tell me. Gosh this is getting ridiculous,” Yuta laughs, leaning back and looking Taeyong in the eye with his own glittery ones.

“You’re the one acting like—y’know what let me ask you, do you like me?” Taeyong breathes out because there was no escaping that sinkhole and only diving into this other sinkhole. Yuta looks up at the sky.

“Not in the same way you like me, nooo” Yuta waves his hand, “but you’re not bad for an idiot,” then he giggles in a way Taeyong will never forget, “I wouldn’t have said this last week if you ask me.”

He turns to meet Taeyong’s eyes and jerks a micrometer away because Taeyong looked like he’d just been granted impunity and the extent of uncomfortable had now blown off the roof.

“Er...and,” Yuta places a hand on Taeyong’s shoulder, patting lightly and quickly, “you draw well.”

Taeyong stares with a poker face, before bursting out in tears.

“WHAT THE HELL WHY ARE YOU CRYING I DIDN’T INSULT YOU!”

“UM CHO CHORRY YUTA.”

“Huh? Why? And just—” Yuta slides to his right on left, “Calm down, hey. Look at me or I’ll punch you.”

Taeyong obeys, sniffling into his sleeve, Yuta slaps his cheeks with both hands hashtag idiot sandwich and glares, “What the hell is wrong with you,” and then removes them because he realises Taeyong can’t answer with his cheeks squished.

Taeyong takes a moment to calm down and Yuta lets him, thinking, _at this rate I’m probably gonna have to ask him about his dad after I die._

Taeyong tentatively lets out, “Yuta I know.”

Yuta gasps, “You know about the thirty people I murdered?”

Taeyong looks at him as if he grown another head, “What? No! That’s not what I—you— _really?!”_

“I was kidding. Seriously, what sort of person do you think I am?” Yuta shrugs. _Good, get him off topic before he cries again._

“I didn’t mean that,” Taeyong replies apologetically.

“Well then, if you’ve got something to say then say it.”

“You won’t punch me?” he asks making Yuta rolls his eyes.

“If this is about Winwin telling you my super sad backstory; then you can stop freaking out, I already know he told you.”

Taeyong, gobsmacked for the nth time drops his jaw, _“How did you know that?”_

“I took a guess. Among other things—you’re pretty easy to read,” Yuta shrugs, _other things_ being Taeyong couldn’t have drank himself to oblivion yesterday if he hadn’t known about it given how oversensitive he is. It didn’t take much to put two and two together and realise that Winwin probably talks a lot. When Yuta looks over to him again his tears have been dried by the nightly breeze but his lips begin to quiver.

Yuta can’t deal with another tear shower. “And I can see you’re blaming yourself,” he says, his tone saliently warmer.

“Why wouldn’t I?” Taeyong says, dabbing his eyes on his sleeves.

“Tch. This is why you’re an idiot,” Yuta feels a bit bad when he realises that he must have sounded pretty harsh so then he groans and turns to Taeyong again, “...thank you.”

Taeyong returns looks up at him, more surprised than perplexed .

“For this party and everything,” Yuta clarifies.

“Me? I didn’t—”

Yuta pinches Taeyong’s lips shut, “Knew you were gonna say you didn’t do anything but I’m not a dumbass like yourself,” Taeyong successfully shuts up, “so thank you, this is like a birthday party and I haven’t had one since Kun and I went to college. I really appreciate you doing this for me.”

He lets his fingers go, and Taeyong is pretty confused by know, “Why, you celebrate your birthdays together or something?”

“Yeah we actually do. Because after—y’know the whole running away thing I ended up using his birth date for everything since I didn’t remember my actual birthday. He’s one lucky shit, born on the new years eve and all that.”

“You’re kidding me,” Taeyong says, but then Yuta had no reason to lie about it even if it was an elaborate joke of his, he wouldn’t put so much effort in the first place.

“I’m not! I just—it’s been a long long time, plus at that age I wasn’t even used to filling up my own forms, it’s highly unlikely my head will ever remember it agai—”

“October 26th,” Taeyong interrupts, Yuta finds himself distracted by his unblinking eyes before his mind processes that he had just said something.

“What?”

“October 26th. That’s your birthday,” Taeyong repeats and gets up from the bench, “and you’re missing the party, get in there and have fun. I took a lot of pain for it.”

He feels himself being pulled back to find Yuta pinching his sleeve stop him, “Don’t even think about partying Lee Taeyong.”

“But I organised it!” he protests.

“For me, right? So listen to me and do as I say, you’re gonna eat and then go right off to sleep. I’ll take dinner for Winwin, got it?”

“No,” Taeyong sarcastically replies with spite just to rile Yuta up.

“I take everything back, _you’re terrible.”_

 

 

 

The Lee clan and friends, as Yuta learns that night mean it when they say they’re going to party hard. Kun, individually made up for all the wild coming from the friend side with his dance number on jamelia’s superstar which was technically an endgame lap dance for Doyoung but Yuta doesn’t really wanna remember that part of it.

Yuta had never experienced this level of celebration from older people he barely remembered from his childhood. They’d pass him, drunk off their asses and say something about how handsome he’d gotten and it was all the most touching and endearing experience he’d had.

Plus he’s not going to deny he and Kun spent good thirty minutes theorising how Taeyong’s uncle Jaejoong and he looked similar but were galaxies apart in personalities (“honestly if Taeyong was as nice as him and put on some muscle like that, I’d swoon. Yuta what do you think?” “that’s never happening if Taeyong continues to dress like the undead.”) and they would have continued for an hour until Joy interrupted their dissing session with more booze which made Yuta remember he was to seal Joy’s mouth off from drinks lest he should suffer again with lewd questions coming his way.

Also he didn’t get a chance to talk to Taeyong’s mom about Taeyong, not because she was busy ‘cause like, she was seated right there beside him and it’s not that he dared to break the party atmosphere (what does he know about partying anyway), Yuta is just ashamed to admit he couldn’t because he was too overwhelmed to speak properly for the entire night.

All because Lee Taeyong overstepped boundaries today.

With a stomach filled over capacity and too exhausted to let him walk, he creeps slowly inside the room. 10 p.m is not acceptable sleeping time but he’s too tired to mooch off Taeyong’s Netflix. He switches on the light to find something crouched in the corner and hurls a shriek.

“Yuta what the hell!?” Taeyong wakes up and Yuta points, with a shivering finger to the _thing_ in the corner, “Don’t what the hell me, what the hell is that— _Winwin?”_

Winwin gets up from his crouched position in the corner of the room and then lies flat on the ground with an expression like that of a freshly murdered corpse. Yuta doesn’t have good vocabulary, he realises. So he just makes some gestures which Taeyong strangely understands.

“He’s been like that since I got here,” he explains, running a hand through his hair, and sinking back into the bed and Yuta can’t help but voice out, “Why?”

“Apparently he figured out how two guys screw,” Taeyong says with a yawn and goes back to sleep, indirectly forcing Yuta to do all the counselling.

Yuta drags Winwin towards the bed by the arm, “Come on kiddo, we’ll talk about this tomorrow, dad’s too tired and papa is an inconsiderate asshole.”

“I heard that,” Taeyong says, lifting a middle finger even whilst asleep.

Winwin whimpers, “Buttsex is terrifying.”

Yuta pats his head, tucking them in, “I know, Winwin. I know.”

 

 

 

Taeyong eagerly waits for the clock to strike twelve and moves off the bed, sliding out while making no noise. The other two still remain asleep and he swings into the rollerchair, regretting having done that swiftly when his shoulder hurts and he winces like an old man with weak bones. He takes one more look at Yuta and Winwin just to check if he hasn’t woken them up and then presses the power button on the computer.

He freaks out and kicks the CPU when Windows decides to sing loudly on start up but thankfully they’re still sleeping soundly.

He begins typing on the computer with great difficulty because it’s his left hand.

 _The Nakamoto Group,_ is the black against the search bar’s white. He clicks over the name of Yuta’s father and with unblinking eyes, he begins reading.

Taeyong knows that if Yuta might start hating him all over again if he ever found out what he’s trying to do but after today, he’s not backing one bit from this.

He skypes Thomas once his earphones are on and Thomas, online like a night owl nevertheless, like every time, has to object.

_‘Young master we are not filing a report against the CEO of the Nakamoto Group for family violence offenses.’_

_Yes we are,_ is what Taeyong types back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> theyre so hopeless i’m getting tired of writing them lol  
> i’m accepting fic requests too please send them on [my new tumblr](https://thefreakquick.tumblr.com/ask) if you’d like :D  
> Do leave a comment, they keep me motivated!  
> see you in april with the next update~ (i have two month long exams kms T_T) ~~im so excited for 18 members~~


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